Mojave Roulette
by Kamzil118
Summary: A young man is brought to the Mojave Wasteland, hell-bent on finding his Kalashnikov as he finds himself in a new world and a new opportunity. Factions will meet, friends are made, and enemies created. Artyom will soon find out where his hand will play where war never changes.
1. Chapter 1: Russian Luck

_"War… war never changes."_

 _"If it's hostile, kill it."_

The Metro tunnels were quiet and dark, but it was home to its Russian inhabitants despite the mutants and their occasional attacks. It was a harsh life, true, but the surface offered little protection for humanity to survive. As much as many prideful citizens of the Metro held their pride in being better than monsters, it was simply a lie. Humanity was forced to live like rats, scouring the surface and frontier stations to survive and thrive.

Despite being decades after the bombs fell, there was one fact that remained with humanity, war. It was bound to happen in the stations aligning to their political beliefs. The communists and the fascists becoming eternal enemies for life while the capitalists made money off their wars. The only sensible people were the independent stations that stayed away from these conflicts, but they were too few, assimilated by the Nazis or the Reds, or simply dead.

Such was life in the tunnels, but there is one station that has survived all these years. The Polis Station and it's Rangers. While the normal independent station would be killed by mutants or coerced into joining a faction, Polis was respected for its authority to broker peace in the Metro and fight creatures that threatened the last bastion of humanity as a hole. They were the white cells that fought off the monsters that tried to purge the last remains of humanity.

It was time to stop thinking, otherwise the rest of the guards would have yelled at him. Artyom, stood against the wall of sandbags and bricks, accompanying the older men guarding the northern frontier against any stray mutants. The young man was at the front of an extensive defensive line should there be two or more packs trying to break through.

Artyom felt a hand press onto his shoulder. "You should take a seat and relax." An older man commented. Glancing over his shoulder, Artyom saw a bald old man take his seat underneath the lightbulb with his custom Kalash resting in his lap. After adjusting his cap, he looked up to him. "Boy, you should know that we have tin cans out there for a reason." He said. "The mutants are too stupid to avoid them."

Taking his words to heart, he sat across from the older man. "Bourbon, how can you be so comfortable when an attack could occur at any moment?" Artyom asked, concerned about the safety of his station. "Isn't it a bit risky?"

Bourbon dragged a bag out from behind his chair and began to drag it over to his side. "Yeah, but so is running off to Polis all by yourself." He replied. "Had I not known you would be Sukhoi's boy, I would have let you go. Alas, here we are guarding your station."

"Aren't you worried about the threat of the Dark Ones? The Invisible Watchers? They could attack us at any moment."

The man produced a bottle from his bag. "If I had to choose between these 'Invisible Watchers' or my debt collectors, I would choose the mutants. At the very least, they won't suck my money out of my pocket every time I pass by." He said jokingly. "Besides, maybe if I stick around they might leave Exhibition alone."

Artyom lowered his head before he looked to his makeshift machine gun. It was not aesthetically pleasing, but it would do as his own weapon. He had been tasked to send a message to Polis Station about the threat of the Dark Ones, but the situation had changed. His step-father had told the guards to never let him out of Exhibition for his quest while the threat was still out there. Artyom couldn't blame him, he didn't want to lose his adoptive son to the dangers of the Metro just like how his mother was eaten alive by rats as they swarmed his former station. As he thought about it, he could never recall the name of his station or the face of his mother.

Then he smelled the scent of alcohol in the air. "Take a sip, it should pass the time while we are on guard duty." The young man hesitantly reached for the bottle as he began to take a sip. "Kid, I want to make a deal with you before I leave." He began. "It is something important."

After removing the bottle from his mouth, feeling the burning sensation in his throat, Artyom looked to the man with questions. What does he plan to do?

"Do you remember when I taught you how to survive on the surface?" He nodded. "Good, when you get older I want you to remember those lessons I taught you and you will learn how to survive."

"Bourbon, where is this going?"

"By the time I return to Riga, there will be Hanza debt collectors looking for me and they'll probably confiscate everything I own to pay off my debts." He answered before bringing his assault rifle out. "I'll let you have this gun, but don't tell Sukhoi I gave you this. It's between me and you." Then Bourbon looked towards the front of the defenses and turned his gaze towards the extra layers of guard posts far away. "Only go to the surface when you really need to. Otherwise, I want you to stay in your home and be safe. I don't want you to go on that mission of yours and getting yourself killed trying to get a message to Polis."

"Why not? A Polis Ranger told me to do it before he went up north." Replied Artyom.

Bourbon's expression went blank. "Artyom, you'll find yourself on a road you'll never expect and you will have one hell of a ride." He explained as he passed the weapon over to him. "Here, it's yours."

In exchange for this gift, Artyom handed the bottle of vodka back to the man named after a drink only to get his hands onto the pre-war weapon. The Kalashnikov or the Kalash for short, was a prized weapon in the Metro. It was one of the few things of the past that had survived the harsh reality that was brought by the evidence of nuclear bombs. Artyom aimed down the sights of the Kalash towards the north tunnel, knowing that if he fired a shot it would have at least fired off in the direction he was guarding.

Despite being gifted such a weapon, Artyom's eyes noticed a figure off in the distance. "Oh, my head." Bourbon commented, catching the young man's attention.

Artyom quickly glanced over to Bourbon's body just to find him sleeping in a coma. He had seen these signs before when he was heading towards Riga Station, but this time he had to wake him up. As he rose from his seat, he glanced over to the front of his station's defenses, but was met with three of those strange figures. This time, they were standing before him. He didn't know when to be horrified or brave in the eyes of these creatures, but Artyom saw their strange features.

Theses mutants were tall and skinny. With their lengthy hands, their arms could reach out for something a normal human couldn't reach, but it's eyes were what concerned Artyom. The large eyes of the Dark Ones were looking at him, in his soul, without hesitation. The stories of men's souls being broken at a whim were enough to terrify the young man about what thoughts went through their heads.

Then a voice echoed into his mind. 'He is the one…' All three Dark Ones reached their hand out towards him, but the voice seemed to soothe him despite its intention. 'He has come to destroy us… No… He will be the ones to save us…' Why were they talking to him in such a manner? Why were these creatures not maliciously trying to kill him just like his neighbors or his friends? 'Send him…' A strange feeling came over the young man as he felt stiff and terrified of their presence. What where they trying to do? 'Do not be afraid… it is the best alternative…'

* * *

There was a bright blue light that shimmered before his eyes, catching Artyom off-guard. He had to close it, it was too bright for his eyes to handle before his hand covered his eyes. The light was too much for him, what were the Dark Ones trying to do. Then he felt his body violently brushed aside from below before he felt like he was falling, but it was only for a moment.

When his feet hit the ground, he felt the harsh feeling of his boots sinking in. However, there was one issue that concerned him. Why was the temperature warm? Moscow was not known for its warm climate, based upon the information he learned in the books. Artyom opened his eyes before removing his hand to see what had happened. Yet, his curiosity would have to wait on another time as five men were standing in front of him.

However, there was one who was different from the other, looking at him with a checkered suit with a sidearm in hand. "What in the… You know what, nevermind." The stranger said as he directed the barrel of his pistol towards Artyom. "Sorry kid, but I can't let you walk away with a beating heart."

The young man raised his hands, but it was too late. The man's gun fired and the last thing he saw was the two flashes from his pistol as his body slammed into the dirt.

"Bury this one. We can't leave a trace." The stranger ordered as he heard the dirt crunch past him, but Artyom felt the Kalash slipping out of his hand. "A Kalashnikov, what's this thing doing here. Let me bring this baby with me, I guess tonight is worth the cost."


	2. Chapter 2: Bite the Bullet

Pain… that was all Artyom could remember. He had been scratched by mutants, felt their teeth gnaw at his body, and their claws holding onto him. However, it was nothing compared to getting shot. As time went on, Artyom noticed the pain in his head was slowly aching. Despite this small moment of peace, the young man wondered what did he deserve in life to deal with this? He should have been with his station, fighting the Dark Ones from overrunning his home and killing the defenders to the last man.

Then the thought of the Dark Ones occurred to him, why did they simply take the risk to come and meet him? These thoughts were strange because of how foreign the entity was at trying to meet with him. Artyom hoped there would be answers to this, clear answers, but in the world of the dying such answers were few and clean. A small cool breeze began to touch his face, demanding his attention. He opened his eyes, but with a simple hope that he would be having a dream of the strange events before he even woke up and lived his normal life.

Yet, it was never meant to be. When his eyes were brought back into the world, Artyom watched the ceiling's fan rotating above him. This is what he had to wake up to in the morning. Strange, he never had anything like this in the Metro and Sukhoi wouldn't have spent men or engineers to install a ceiling fan above him.

As he turned his head, Artyom watched from his cot and saw that he was in a room few people were ever given. In the Metro, a normal man would have been lucky to have a shack, but this room was different. The large space that was given for an old bald man walking around suggested either this man was rich or had plenty of time to make this much space for himself. "It's okay, I'll see what I can do to get you patched up." The older man commented as he worked on the body of a woman resting in her cot. "Just sleep and I'll see if I can fix this problem.

The young man looked around for a quick moment, only to take the opportunity to sit up from his resting place. As he sat up from his cot, Artyom felt a strange sensation going through his head. It could have possibly been the morphine to drown out his pain or the bullet wounds in his head. He would have to look in a mirror.

The doctor stopped working on his patient only to remove his instruments and turn around. "Oh, you're awake." He began before slipping his bloodied gloves off. When he walked over to Artyom, he took a quick seat beside the Russian. "Hey, don't move too quickly. You're still recovering from those wounds so take it easy." A small groan slipped from the lips of his patient. "Young man, just lay back down and rest. I'll see if I can get around to you."

* * *

After the strange doctor was finished helping his second patient, he was content with a few words. "That gal is going to need plenty of time recovering before she could be on her feet again, but she'll be fine." Then he took a seat beside Artyom's cot. "Okay, young man. Sit up for me so I can make a quick look and see how you are doing."

The young man did as he was told, sitting up to the man with the medical expertise. He groaned at the aching in his head. "Where am I?" Artyom wondered, curious to learn about his surroundings.

"Take it slow, you've been in a coma and I just want to see how you'll do since I took those bullets out of your noggin." The man answered as he gave out his hand. "Name's Doc Mitchell, I'm the town's doctor. Welcome to Goodsprings. What's your name?"

"Artyom." He said. "My name is Artyom." Then he slowly reached out to shake his hand. "What happened to me?"

"You got shot. Thankfully, I was able to extract those nine millimeters from your head before they could do any more damage. Hopefully, you will be fine." There was a small moment of silence between both people. "Strange, you have a funny accent. I haven't heard of it before, but I do believe that it's far from here."

"Doctor, do you know where I am?"

Doc Mitchell leaned back in his seat with his eyes gazing upon him like a hawk. "Seeing that you're not from Goodsprings and you don't look like you're from around here, all I can tell you is that you are in the Mojave Wasteland. If you want to know more, the Mojave has a bit of California, Utah, Nevada, and Arizona if we go by old-world states." The older man explained to him.

At the mention of these names, Artyom grew confused as he began to think for a logical explanation. He looked back deep into his memories, recalling such names that were mentioned before, but he could only recall his childhood. In this moment, he remembered how one of the countries outside of Moscow was split into states, but one he could remember was California. Yet, this man mentioned that he was within California. "Wait a minute, I'm in America?" Artyom questioned. He nodded his head at the thought. "No, it's impossible. I shouldn't be here."

The doctor raised his hands in goodwill. "Hey, calm down. Explain yourself. Maybe you can tell me what's going on with you. It might be you recovering from that wound of yours."

"You don't understand, I am not from around here."

"It's okay, I'll listen to you. Just tell me what's up."

"Doctor, I'm not from this place. I'm from Moscow Metro." When Artyom's words mentioned his familiar home, the bald man's eyes lit up. Perhaps he was surprised as well at this revelation.

"You're from Russia. Weird, I never thought we would ever find people from that part of the world." Mitchell said to himself. "Say, what is a kid like you doing here?"

Then he recalled his last memories. "All I can remember is that I was doing guard duty in my home station until some mutants came up to me and… I don't even know."

The doctor leaned forward as his chin rested upon his hand. "It sounds so far-fetched, but I've heard of worse. I believe you."

Artyom was surprised. Someone believed his story, one that was filled with enough nonsense to be called a madman, but this man took the chance to tell him that he was telling the truth. "Why? What makes you think you can believe my story?"

"It's your accent. It's not normal around these parts and people might say you'll be talking funny if I let you out of here." A groan escaped from the woman behind the doctor. "Okay, I better get you off your feet before I get back to patching her up." Then Mitchell rose to his feet and began to walk onto the far side of the room. This time, he stood beside a strange machine with letters and numbers.

The numbers were easy to understand, but the words were difficult to decipher. It was strange, but as Artyom blinked his eyes, the words made sense to him. He didn't know why, but this strange language was somehow making sense to him.

"See if you can walk over here, I want to see if you'll be able to walk."

The young man slipped off his cot and took a slow step. However, his feet were struggling to maintain a balance in his body as he walked over to the doctor. It was strange to think that his legs would be failing him at such a moment. Then his left leg succumbed to his own weight. Mitchell was quick to come to his aide, but Artyom raised his hand up. "Don't, I want to do this myself." He commented. Pushing himself off the wooden flooring, Artyom rose from the ground and continued his path.

When he finally reached the doctor and the strange machine beside him, he spoke. "That is some fine walking for a man walking out of the grave." Doc Mitchell commented. "I think you can carry yourself well."

"Doctor, do you know what happened to me?" He wondered.

"Other than getting shot? I don't know, but I did see a few odd fellows slip into town." He pointed towards his patient. "Turns out they had business with her, but somehow you got caught up in this debacle as well. Do you remember anything?"

Artyom shook his head. "Nyet, I don't know a thing other than a man in a checkered suit."

Mitchell's facial expression turned sour. "I knew you would say that and I somehow knew it had to do with them. Are you going to do know?"

Yes, what was Artyom going to do? He was in the middle of nowhere with no one to help him out and a place unlike his own. Other than the doctor, Artyom felt he had no purpose in life. Despite these facts, there was a memory calling out to him. There shouldn't be a reason for him to remember that moment where he was shot by the stranger, but his mind thought about it.

A Kalashnikov, what's this thing doing here? Let me bring this baby with me, I guess tonight is worth the cost.

Those words from that stranger made his blood boil. That man stole his Kalash, a weapon gifted to him by someone he trusted. Perhaps there was a purpose? At the very least it was something to look forward to after taking a shot to the head, but his mind settled in on the matter as Artyom thought about hunting that man and killing him. Strange, that was a policy for a Polis Ranger if someone took a life from their ranks. If only Hunter was here to think about his thoughts.

"Hey, you look red as a tomato." Mitchell commented. "Mind you explain this to me?"

"You said there was a man in a checkered shirt that passed through here, right?" Artyom asked. "Do you know where to find him?"

"I don't know. I just heard we had newcomers in town, but I wasn't there at the time. However, you can head over to Prospector's Saloon and talk to Trudy. She might know where those fellows went. After all, she knows what usually goes on in the town. Why do you ask?"

There was a tense feeling of rage within him. "Someone stole something from me, I plan to take it back."

"If that's the case I should worry about my other patient." Mitchell said. "I think you'll be fine enough, but before you leave I think I should hand this back to you. I didn't want this stuff to get in the way when I was performing a procedure on you." His hand reached out from behind his back with a familiar weapon in hand. "I don't know what the hell this is, but I guess it's a weapon you know about."

"Bastard." Artyom replied.

"What did you say to me?" The doctor demanded. "I just took the time to get you back together and this is what you say to me."

"No, this is a Bastard gun." He explained. "It's a bastard to use, hence why it's called a Bastard gun."

Mitchell took a look at the weapon with curiosity. "Oh… that makes plenty of sense. Sorry for overreacting."

Artyom began to laugh. "No worries, doctor. You're not the first person to act like that when I have this around. Thanks for keeping this, it's the only weapon I'm familiar with."

"Well, I guess it's time I hand this to you since I won't be using it anymore."

"Doctor, what are you talking about."

"You see, I have this thing called a Pip-Boy. I don't use it as much, but I think you'll need it more than I do. Especially since you're new around here and don't have a map of the Mojave." Out from behind his back, Doctor Mitchell revealed a strange wrist machine with a small computer screen attached. This device not only caught Artyom's attention, but piqued his curiosity.

When Artyom was immediately given the strange device, he inspected the machine with curiosity. "What does it do?" He wondered. "I never had anything like this back in Moscow." His fingers began to press buttons as the screens changed before his very eyes.

"Like I said, it's called a Pip-Boy. It's your own mini-computer attached to your wrist. Play around with it, you can figure it out along the way."

"I guess I have to thank you for saving me and helping me get on my why. How can I thank you?"

"For me, just stay alive and be healthy. That is all I am asking form you."

A smile escaped from Artyom's lips. "Still, I have to thank you for doing this for me."

"No problem." The doctor replied as he walked away from the young man. "I better get back to work, my patient needs me."

Strange, such actions in the Metro would get a man killed. However, this was not the Metro and this concept was rather strange for Artyom. Life was always harsh to him and now there was a chance of kindness coming his way. What were the possibilities of such things happening to him?

The Russian began to walk over to the nearest exit and as he unlocked the door, he felt a wave of hot air fly into his face. However, his eyes succumbed to the light as he raised his hand to defy the sun. In this moment, Artyom's gaze fell upon the remains of the town that had survived the bombs just to learn he was no longer in Moscow anymore.


	3. Chapter 3: Goodspring Kickstart

Exhibition Station was on high alert and Bourbon couldn't blame the people in charge. Artyom was missing and it was all because of his drinking or perhaps his ill care when he was on guard duty. Sukhoi was going to give him an earful and perhaps throw him out of the station if he was angry enough. However, he couldn't blame the man. Artyom was all that he was living for. No man should be calm when their adoptive son goes missing just after they achieve stalker age.

He quietly sat at his guard post, but his mind was elsewhere as he ensured no mutant dared to come past him. Whatever caused him to fall into a coma, it was not normal. There was something about it that made him worry about the possibility of experiencing the strange shit the Metro was rumored to have. He would have believed such were true in front of Artyom, but it was best that he didn't express his fearfulness in the tunnels. People would make fun of him for being scared, particularly the Hanza guards. Thankfully, he wasn't in Hanza territory and he was in an independent station that was out of their range of influence. Had Exhibition not be under threat of these 'Dark Ones' or the usual tunnel trash, they would have definitely threw him out.

Bourbon took another sip from his bottle of mushroom vodka, it was perhaps the shittiest drink to experience, but it would suffice. He missed the drinks in the days before the war, wine, bourbon, vodka, beer, or whisky. It was a pity that young men like Artyom would never experience such tastes of the paste before they were incinerated by the radioactive bombs. Instead, they would spend their life drinking bottles of shit that was preferable than piss.

His ears began to hear small scratches on the tunnel floor, but it concerned him greatly since he had not heard any scratching during his time on guard duty. Bourbon drew his automatic shotgun from his side and loaded a shell onto the clamps before pumping the shotgun shell into the chamber. Perhaps there was a lone mutant probing the station's defense. He rose from his seat and manned his station, turning on the light switch, allowing his eyes to see the road ahead. There was something about it that irked him and he hated it. "Hey, who the fuck is there?" He questioned.

Silence was his answer. Maybe he was just hearing things, but it never harmed anyone to be cautious in the tunnels. To relax when there was danger was any man's greatest mistake. Yet, his eyes were noticing something in the distance. He couldn't make it out, but Bourbon sensed _someone_ was there. He didn't know why anyone would be living in the Northern Frontier, there was nothing there for anyone. The figure of a man grew closer, but the stranger sprinted towards him. "Ave Caesar!"

The threat revealed himself in blood-red while dressed in football padding. This time, his hand was carrying a spear and as he slowed down he lunged the spear towards the guard post.

Bourbon was quick to take cover behind the wall of sandbags as the spear flew over him. When the wooden spear landed on the tracks, he rose from his cover and returned fire with three shotgun shells. The pellets gibbed the assailant's body into pieces as he fell to the ground. "What the fuck?" Bourbon pondered to himself as he reached over to the bell on the left. The drunkard immediately rang the alarm and shouted to the layered defenses. "Anyone at their post?! We got company!"

His eyes looked back towards the main defenses and saw the station's militia ran into their positions and manned their barricade. "Bourbon, get back here. We'll cover you!"

From the north, battle cries shouted from the darkness as the stalker left his position for the better defended barricade. He sprinted towards the sandbag wall, sprinkled with spikes as the gated door was swung open for him. As soon as Bourbon got through, the guards were quick to close it shut before a man stepped in to forcefully reinforce it with sandbags.

"Everyone, get to your positions!"

Bourbon walked over and joined the militia behind their barricade as they loaded their Bastards and their Kalashnikovs for the fighting to come. Some were as young as eighteen, but others were older. Simple people of the Metro, people with 'normal' lives if it can be called in such a way. He immediately filled his clamps with shotguns shells while his fellow defenders slipped their magazines of dirty ammunition into their weapons. A hand fell upon his shoulder, surprising Bourbon as he glanced over his shoulder. "Sukhoi, what are you doing here? I thought you were looking for your son."

Sukhoi, he was much older than Bourbon and his white hair proved how old he was. Unlike most men in the Metro, he had not reached any bald hairs while his wrinkled face expressed the stress he experienced. "I heard the alarm. What's attacking us? Is it the Dark Ones or just the usual mutants?"

"More like _who_ is attacking us. Apparently, someone is attacking us from the Northern Frontier. I don't know who, but all I knew is that the fucker decided to throw a spear at me."

"Bourbon, have you been drinking too much?" The leader of Exhibition asked.

"No, I'm not stupid to do something like that. Maybe off-duty, but that doesn't matter. Right now, someone is attacking your station."

Sukhoi shook his head in disbelief. "A new breed of mutants and now this, I wonder what we're going to deal with."

One of the defenders alerted everyone. "Look, there's someone coming in!"

Sukhoi was quick to stand behind Bourbon as flashes erupted from the darkness and flew in their general direction. "Get down!" He ordered. The men were quick to duck behind their wall of cover as the hail of gunfire pinned the militia from defending their positions. On the right, the gunner's hands was holding the handles of a heavy machine gun while he crouched behind the concrete wall. "Ivan, I need you to suppress those guys."

The gunner shook his head in acknowledgment before he stood up behind the safety of the gun shield and returned the heavy ammunition back on the flashes in the darkness.

"Men, return fire! Return fire!" Sukhoi ordered as he drew his Kalash from his side and peeked over. Then he pulled the trigger and began to inspire the younger men into joining Exhibition's defense.

Bourbon made three quick breaths before he stood up and began firing his Shambler upon the attackers. With each pump, he watched as the assailants fell in the open to the gunfire of the Exhibition defenders.

A man beside him took a bullet, slumping onto the ground before he screamed in pain. "Motherfuckers, I'm going to kill you!" While his hand was pressed on his wound, a doctor dragged him away from the barricade with a trail of blood following him.

The fighting continued, but Bourbon noticed a heavily armored soldier walking forth with a giant sledgehammer in both of his hands. "Take him out!" Bourbon shouted as he blasted the next shots into the armored soldier. To his surprise, the man's armor was enough to protect him. "Get a DShK on that fucker!" Although he was a stranger from another part of the Metro, the machine gunner headed his orders and focused the full firepower upon the armored warrior.

The attacker with the sledgehammer charged forth, but the heavy mounted machine gun was enough to put him down. The large caliber rounds riddled his armor without mercy causing him to fall over and land face-first into the ground. When his blood began to spill onto the tunnel tracks, it was clear he was dying. However, killing him seemed to have an effect as the attackers began to flee from the barricades while gunfire followed after them.

Bourbon finally felt safe, knowing they wouldn't return, but he noticed Sukhoi looking around. "Whoever these people are, we can't let them have a second chance." He said. "We're going to have to blow the tunnel, get the charges ready we need to close off the Northern Tunnel."

The drunkard stood up beside the leader as he lowered his automatic shotgun. "So, what are you going to do now that the fighting is over?"

Sukhoi saved a glance to the man, but his expression was different from Bourbon's last encounter. "Bourbon, you might think I'm crazy, but I need you to head over to Polis and tell them about this. The rest of the Metro _needs_ to hear this. No one has ever returned from the Northern Tunnels and to see that these people arrived and attacked us makes me worry there is something wrong."

"Me? To Polis? Are you crazy, my friend? They'll never let a man like me just to meet with the Council. My reputation as a drunkard in debt isn't exactly a secret."

The older man shook his head. "Damn, you're right." He said as he turned his head over to the bodies. "Maybe you can convince them. Look there, see if you can take something off of their bodies and show them to Polis. It might be enough evidence to get the Spartan Order to come over here and help us."

"Are you sure?" Bourbon questioned. To be given a task that was similar to Artyom's made him wonder if he had any thoughts just like him about the matter.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Okay then, if I end up leaving I want to make sure you and the rest of your people-here can hold out while I'm gone."

"We'll be fine. If the Dark Ones haven't destroyed us, these people won't." Sukhoi assured him.

* * *

The heat on Artyom's body was new, refreshing, but uncomfortable. Although the Moscow Metro was cold, who would have thought that the heat could be so terrible to a man's soul. As he walked to the front of the building, he looked up at the sign and see it read 'Prospector's Saloon'. Why could he understand this weird language? This question concerned him, more than he ever wanted to ask.

Lowering his head back to the earth, he saw an old man rocking back and forth in his chair. His face weary, but his eyes could still be enough to scare him. The strange hat he had on him made Artyom wonder, but he didn't want attention to himself. "Young man, what's wrong with you?" He asked in his old creaking voice. "Can't you read the sign?"

The young man expressed a smile to the man of his age. "No, it's just that I'm not around here."

"So I heard that you're the other person that Victor dug out of the grave. I'm surprised that two could take a bullet and live. Though the gal doesn't look like she'll do much." The old man commented.

"I don't want to be rude, but who are you?"

The old man raised his eyebrows. "Me? Everyone calls me Easy Pete. I used to be prospector before I decided to retire to this good ole' town. What about you? What brings you here?"

"I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." It was an honest answer. Maybe a half-truth, but it was still the truth.

"I see. Why are you still here? Did the doc say that you should be resting?"

Artyom shook his head. "I'm here to find someone who goes by the name of Trudy."

"Oh, she's inside." Pete replied as he pointed to the door. "She's the owner of this place, nicest person you'll ever meet. She'll make you a meal you'll never ask for and you can't say know to a person her."

He nodded his head. "Spasibo, thank you."

"You talk funny, but maybe that's just me. Welcome to Goodsprings, young fellow." He was a nice man that was all Artyom could think about him. Old, rough, but was nice enough to give him directions. It was strange to think that Bourbon was something like him.

As the Russian walked into the saloon, he looked around to hear the glasses and the drinking around the corner. However, he couldn't explore when there was a dog and it's owner present. A blonde began petting her pet as she raised her head and smiled. "Hello there, you seem like a new face in town." She said. "Say, what are you here for?" The girl asked.

"I'm here for Trudy." Artyom answered. "Do you know where she is?"

"Look to your left and you'll find her."

"Thank you." He said, turning away from the girl taking care of her pet. The young man followed her direction and it came to fruit when he noticed the stools and the seats were empty while an older woman was standing behind the counter, wiping glasses with a rag. After she was finished with that glass, she continued with another. "Excuse me, are you Trudy?"

After catching her attention, the woman placed the glass underneath the counter and expressed a smile as she came over to him on her side of the counter. "Yes, I'm Trudy." She answered. "Welcome to my saloon- wait a minute- you're one of Mitchell's patients. No wonder why you looked so familiar."

"You know me?" Artyom asked, curious about this woman.

"Of course I recognize you. I saw Victor bring you and the courier gal over to the Doc's house. Now I don't trust Victor, but it's good to see that you're still alive." Trudy answered. "Now, do you know anything about that courier gal. Doc said she didn't seem too good."

Artyom was immediately reminded about that girl who lied on her cot, moaning and groaning. "I don't know. I didn't stick around enough to notice her."

"Well, what a pity. I hope she's alright." Her attitude immediately changed. "Now that you're up, let me cook you something good for you to eat. You looked starved. Don't worry about paying me, this one is on the house."

Trudy did not need to do that, but Artyom didn't object such a meal. It was a rarity to find people like her in the Metro. Even the cooks at their stations wouldn't be so keen on feeding a complete stranger if there wasn't anything in return. The sad part; however, he was not here for the meal. "I appreciate the meal, Trudy, but I am here to ask some questions."

The woman turned away from him and began to head over to the refrigerator. "Sure, ask away."

"Do you know anything about a man in a checkered shirt walking around?" Artyom questioned. "I want to know where he is."

After the lady closed the refrigerator, she walked over to his side of the counter with a plate of steak. "Oh, the kid from the city? Yes, I remember him. He brought some Khans with him and told them to be all hush-hush about some big payday." She explained to him. "Not hard to forget about them since one of them 'accidentally' knocked my radio over. Before they left, I heard they decided to head south since there was some sort of commotion going on up north. The question I want to know is what kind of business did they have here?" Her eyes were looking straight at him.

Artyom shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know."

Trudy expressed a smile as she slide the plate over to him. "Alright then, enjoy your meal." She said.

He looked around and noticed that it was just himself and Trudy. Rather than break the silence, Artyom took his seat at the counter and picked up the silverware set beside his plate. After he sliced a piece of meat away, his fork slowly reached into his mouth. When his mouth savored the taste, the taste made him feel alive. The sense that he had reached the forbidden fruit of heaven when his meals in the Metro consisted of mushrooms. There was the occasional bits of pork, but it was rationed for the rest of the Metro in case the mushroom farms didn't grow well. Even at celebrations it was very rare to find meat. If there was a chance to return back to the Metro, he would have to tell his people at Exhibition and perhaps everyone else about this place.

Artyom turned his head towards the door when he heard a loud kick swing it open. Who would open the door so forcefully?

At the doorway, a shaved dark-skinned man stepped into the saloon with his hands on his hips in a blue uniform covered by his armored vest. The stranger looked around and began to walk into the area where the counter was. As he passed by, his eyes noticed the young man at his seat. "What the fuck are you looking at?" He demanded. Artyom immediately turned his head back to his meal focusing on the meat.

Yet, he couldn't ignore him. There was something about the man he didn't like. The very same feeling he had when he made contact with bandits along with Bourbon.

When the man took a seat on the far side of the counter, he began to get the woman's attention. "Joe, what are you doing here?" She asked. "I thought you were looking for Ringo."

"Don't give me that bullshit, Trudy. I know you have that piece of shit in this damn town." Joe accused, confronting the waitress across the counter.

She crossed her arms. "Again, I'm going to tell you once more we don't have him here."

"One of these days, my boys and I are going to search the town whether you like it or not."

Trudy was not convinced at his intimidation. "Look, are you going to be buying something or not."

Joe slipped out of his seat and did not bat an eye towards the woman as he departed from the saloon. When he was at the doorway, Artyom took one more glance at the man, only to see an acronym marked on his armor, 'NCRCF'. Was he part of some kind of authority around these parts? Why could he understand this strange language?

"Don't mind him, he's just barking with no bite." She commented.

Curiosity about this matter made him stop eating for a moment. "Who was that man?" Artyom questioned. "He's seems hostile."

"Him?" Her eyebrows directed where the man departed from. "That's Joe Cobb, he's one of the Powder Gangers who broke out of the NCR Correctional Facility south of here. He's looking for a guy named Ringo and I hope he leaves and brings the trouble with him as well."

"What would happen if I helped Ringo? Get him out of the town or confront this Joe."

Trudy was quick to express her skepticism. "I don't know. You just got out Mitchell's house, but if you do manage to get rid of Joe you'll be doing this town a huge favor. Though, it might bring more trouble if killing Cobb reaches the facility."

"The facility?"

"It was a prison that was used to be runned by the NCR, the New California Republic. That place would be used to get people to work on the lines, but the problem is that dynamite and criminals don't work well." She explained to him. "After they broke out and killed the guards, they called themselves Powder Gangers."

"Why does he wear that uniform if he's a criminal?" He asked.

"Joe probably killed the person who owned it and now wears it." She replied. "Be careful if you meet with them. Pete says they're nothing, but trouble and he usually doesn't say something like that around these parts."

After learning about this place, Artyom returned his attention towards his meal while his thoughts were focused getting rid of these bandits. Strange to recall his moments when he first traveled the Metro with Bourbon. Perhaps there was something to learn from his small experience.

* * *

Artyom walked out of the saloon with a full stomach as he was given a back of a strange drink called 'Sunset Sarsaparilla'. He had heard many names for drinks, but this one was the strangest of them all. Trudy had told him that it's a drink that doesn't give off radiation while it also doesn't make him drunk. It would have been amazing if it was introduced into the Metro since its taste was preferable to the mushroom Vodka.

As he slowly walked towards the edge, he heard someone crying out for his name. "Hey, where are you going?"

He turned around, curious about the person. "Wait, you are that girl from the saloon. What are you doing here?"

"Sorry I didn't introduce myself, name's Sunny Smiles, Trudy asked me to warn you about going off to south. I'm just here to tell you to be careful when you head down there. The only safe place there is this town called Primm. It's the town with the roller coasters." She explained to him.

"Roller coasters?" Artyom asked.

She shook her head. "It's the town with the fancy structures. You'll have to pass by the prison, but the gangers will keep themselves."

"Are you sure? You said there was a prison I have to pass by."

"Unless you're a merchant or from the NCR. They won't bother you unless you bother them."

"Okay, thank you for help."

The young woman expressed a smile. "No problem, just want to assure Trudy that you'll be safe since you just got out of Mitchell's table." She turned away and walked back towards the saloon as the young stalker looked around. He was all by himself and without any sense of direction in this strange place.

Artyom continued to walk out of the town, but there was a strange feeling that someone was watching him. There was a possibility that Sunny was doing the watching, but her attitude didn't fit the feeling. He stopped in his tracks and observed his surroundings, he noticed a strange dark figure on the mountains on the right. When he blinked his eyes, the dark figure disappeared. "I must be seeing things." Then he noticed an inhuman figure looking at him from the left, but unlike the previous watcher there was a white mark on it's face. However, it turned away as its figure disappeared over the horizon.

The young man drew his Bastard gun as his finger lay near the trigger. Whatever was watching him, he had to remain cautious.


	4. Chapter 4: Roadside Picnic

The road was quiet, very quiet. Aside from the bestial cries in the night, the young man continued on his journey looking for the man who stole what was rightfully his. As he continued on his journey for his Kalash, Artyom took a quick glimpse at the Pip Boy, observing its strange design. He heard tales from Polis that there used to be devices like these, but were no longer useful once the world died. If he somehow got their attention with this device, perhaps they could come to his home station just to learn about its secrets.

Then his heart ached when he thought about his home, the people he knew as a child, and it's wonderful tea the station exported. Artyom's mind continued to think about the danger Exhibition was in with the mutant threat getting out of hand. He had promised to help Hunter send a message to Polis and fight the Dark Ones, but Bourbon already prevented that possibility from happening. Artyom wanted to blame him, but didn't want to. No one from the rest of the Metro knew about the threat of the mutants that plagued his home and perhaps they didn't care.

However, he removed his thoughts about home as he began to take a another glance at his Pip Boy. His thumb clicked on the middle button that read "Inventory", but what did that mean? The screen began to change into a different set up while it piqued his curiosity. Then his eyes noticed the five sections his inventory was made up.

'Weapons'

'Apparel'

'Aid'

'Misc'

'Ammo'

Before he could continue looking into his Pip Boy, Artyom knew better than to be a sitting target. He looked around and found there was nothing on the road that he could shelter in. The east was barren and filled with nothing, but open desert as the west landscape was filled with hills. The terrain could potentially hide him, but it could also endanger him. Danger lurked in this place and just like the surface of the Dead City every step could be his last.

To his surprise, there was shelter present. His gaze fell upon a small trailer with a small campsite nearby. Maybe travelers used it every now and then, just like the stalkers.

Understanding that sleeping in the open was suicide, Artyom walked towards the trailer as he reached for his Bastard gun. The weapon's sink and it's stock was heavy, but he never complained about it's weight. Having to avoid overheating the weapon in the middle of combat was a worthy trade-off he never wanted to have.

Once he reached the empty trailer, Artyom peeked his head in and found nothing except mattress on the floor. There wasn't any pillows, but it was better than laying in the sand. He took his first steps into the trailer and flipped the mattress over, just in case. Ever since his first encounter with bandits in the Metro, he didn't want the risk of detonating a bomb.

Luckily, nothing was underneath the mattress. "Good enough, I guess." Artyom placed his Bastard gun in his chest as he laid his head back on the mattress. All that mattered was when he needed to wake. The last thing the stalker needed was opening his eyes as a prisoner to whoever enjoyed taking advantage over people. Problem was, how was he going to know someone would be coming for him. He could use the old tripwire trick with a grenade, but the blast would kill him in his sleep. The other available option was using tin cans at the doorway to alarm him of intruders. However, where was he going to find tin cans and some string?

The stalker drew his Bastard out and placed beside him as he laid on the mattress. It would remain as his response weapon against anyone if he remained awake. That was if he dared to stay awake.

Then again, he was going to take a look at the Pip-Boy while he remained in his little shelter. After bringing the device up to his face, Artyom continued to look through the sections within the Inventory system. It was a strange device indeed, but as he switched it into the weapon section his eyes widened in surprised. The device apparently knew what weapons was on his person and the kind of bullets it normally used.

'Bastard'

'Duplet'

'Revolver'

'Trench Knife'

This revelation made him curious. How did this Pip-Boy know? He wanted to ask it's secrets, but Artyom knew that it will never tell him. After the bombs fell, perhaps that secret died with those who created this. Much like the men who made the Metro.

He immediately reached for his Bastard as he heard a crunch outside. Someone or something was coming. The young man aimed his sub-machine gun at the doorway as the crunching continued to get closer. Then he heard a man's voice calling. "Hello, is anyone there I need help!" The tone of his voice was that of a desperate soul. Yet, Artyom knew to remain cautious and allow himself to be tricked.

With his weapon in hand, the Russian slowly sat near the doorway and saw the shadow of a man looking around frantically.

"Hello, is someone out there!" When his head turned towards him, his eyes were looking at him with hope. "Hey, I hate to bother you, but I need help." The stranger began.

Artyom waited quietly as the person stepped closer. "Stop right there." He ordered.

The man did as he was told. "What's this all about? I'm not here to hurt you."

"I'm not sure. It's dark and you're here shouting." The stalker replied.

"Look, I need help. My sister is stuck on a ridge and is surrounded by geckos, I'm looking for someone to clear it out for me so I can rescue her."

"Why are you two walking in the middle of the night?"

"Well, there was this refrigerator with some chems and I thought it would be nice to make some caps selling it. Look, my sister is in need of a rescue. I could probably share some of the chems with you."

A way to make money on the side, perhaps it would do some good. However, there was a strange feeling that didn't go well with the man. Why was this man looking for help in the middle of the night? It did not make sense, but then again the things he had heard and seen in the Metro beg otherwise. "Okay, you caught my attention. I'll help you out, understand?"

"Got it, just please save my sister quickly!"

After this, he might sleep comfortably with a good deed done for the day. The stalker rose from his mattress and stepped out of the small shelter he found in the middle of nowhere. "Where is she?"

"My sister is up this ridge past the broken antenna tower. You won't miss it."

"Okay, I'll take care of those creatures for you." Artyom replied.

But the man expressed a curiosity when his eyes looked at his weapon. "Hey, what's that. I haven't seen that before." Strange, why was he asking that question when his sister was in danger? There was something off about this man, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

* * *

The stranger was not wrong. There was a broken antenna that he passed by, but as he continued up the ridge he felt a strange sense of danger nearby. Artyom didn't know why, but he could feel the threat getting closer as he went up the ridge.

After passing up a ridge, his eyes noticed figures running towards him. Since he lived most of his life in the dark tunnels, his sight was used to seeing in the darkness and the moon was up in the air. Artyom raised his Bastard as the three geckos ran towards him without hesitation. Were they they desperate? Doesn't matter, his weapon would answer their hunger.

The stalker looked down his sights and gunned the three geckos in quick succession, but in short and controlled bursts. The SMG was best used in such manner, the only time it should be used automatically was when there was no room for aiming. The gunfire was enough to drop all three geckos to the ground as he made a slow ascent to the ridge.

The closer he got, Artyom noticed there was a refrigerator that was closed shut on the left. _Where was the sister?_ He wondered. The closer he gotten, he saw more geckos, but they were already dead when he arrived. However, their limbs were cut to pieces with a strange trap that ripped through their flesh. _This is not right._

When Artyom arrived near the edge of the ridge, he found a table, a few chairs, and a body of a man whose blood was already spilt. Then he heard a click behind him. "Don't move, pal." It was the stranger who sent him here from before. "Sorry to trick you, but I needed you to clear out the geckos for me. Thank you for that. However, I'm going to have to kill you."

Looking over his shoulder, the young man recognized the blonde's face. "Why didn't you kill the geckos if you had a gun?"

"I didn't have enough bullets. Besides, I can't aim for shit with this gun."

Artyom had heard many stupid things said by people, but this was the worst of them all. "You shouldn't have said that." He replied.

"Why not? I'm not the one with the gun against my back."

It was a risk, but it was preferable than letting that idiot kill him and fall to his death. The stalker rolled away from the edge of the cliff as his gaze fell upon the surprised fool. The man fired his pistol, but Artyom fell faster than the bullets could hit him. Rather than standing, he rested on his side as the trigger was squeezed.

The Bastard unleashed it's quick reputation on Artyom's assailant as he fell back, riddled with bullets. Once the man was on the ground, he rose from dirt and began to check for any signs of life in the man. The stranger gurgled in his own blood as his eyes began to look over to his gun and tried to use his remaining strength to fight back, but it was all in vain. Too much blood loss made him succumb to his inevitable death.

After the stranger did not move for a few minutes, he settled that the man was dead. "Pity, I actually thought you had a sister." Artyom quietly said to himself as he looked away from the man's eyes and off to his weapon. He grabbed the pistol out from the dead man's grasp as he slipped the safety on and put it into his backpack.

Then he glanced over to the refrigerator behind his back and made his way towards it. It wasn't a total loss.

Such was life in the apocalypse...

* * *

Author's Note: I was having a hard time trying to find a name for the chapter, but apparently a simple lightbulb gave me an idea. If any of you understand the title of the chapter, good for you. If any of you have no clue, look it up.

* * *

 **AZNMAGICMAN** : Well you also forget that factions in the Metro have heavy automatic shotgun cannons.

 **Francisco914** : Sorry to tell you, but the Metro/Gate crossover is discontinued. I will not continue making that fic since I have some problems to write out with that one. As for Artyom speaking English, can't comment.

 **guest** : Preachers? No. I don't know where you got that from.

 **guest** : He's not the only one following Artyom.

 **TMDF-Artyom** : How do I explain it, the guys in the Legion are taught to deal with the pain no matter what. So while they are shrugging off heavy machine gun rounds, they are also ignoring the pain as best they can since they are fanatics for Caesar.

 **TwilightScarlet** : Yes. Yes it is.

 **DocHoliday0316** : Actually, Artyom will not be traveling with the courier, sad to say. She will have a small conversation with her, but they won't be traveling together. Rather, it will focus mostly on him.


	5. Chapter 5: Bandit Blues

After the events that had transpired the night before, Artyom found himself with more than he expected. There was food, water, drinks, and some ammo for the gun he looted off his attacker. The stalker enjoyed the warmness of the meal he cooked the morning after and refreshed himself with a bottle of Sunset Sarsparilla. Although he could stay and enjoy his spoils, he had to go to Primm and learn about the whereabouts of the men who shot him.

He soon went off into the desert with his weapons at hand as his Pip Boy acted as his inventory manager.

As the remains of the road grinded against his boots, Artyom noticed two figures stumbling in his path from afar. One was dressed in blue and the second barely had enough clothes on his person. Why they were in the middle of the road, perhaps he didn't want to know. With each step, the two strangers came closer than he had liked. Then he noticed the color scheme of the dressed man, it was almost similar to the one he had seen on another, but he could put his finger on it.

Artyom slung his Bastard away as he switched it out for his double-barrelled shotgun, the Duplet. At the moment, he needed to conserve his ammo for the time being until he truly needed it. Soon, he was confronted by the two men, whose eyes glared at them along with a smile on their lips. "What brings a guy like you 'round these parts?" The half-naked man asked.

The stalker's finger was close to his trigger. "I'm traveling."

The half-naked man scoffed at his answer before turning his head away to spit. Afterwards, he spoke. "So stranger, do you know who you are?"

Artyom slowly shook his head as his eyes fell upon the stranger's compatriot. He remained silent with his eyes hidden away underneath those sunglasses. His arms were folded with a baton in hand. "No, not at all."

He glanced to his companion with a smile. "Steve, can you believe this guy? I think we should teach 'em where he is." Then the stranger turned his full attention on him. "You're in Powder Ganger territory now, don't you forget that." He said with his finger pointing at him.

"Apologies, I'm not from around these parts." It was an honest answer, but a half answer nonetheless.

"You're new here? Well what do you know, we have a tourist to treat. Why don't ya pay a fee for crossing into our turf? It's a… protection for traders who come across our territory."

"Pay you?"

Offended, the man shook his head. "Of course you have to pay us for crossing into our land. Give us the bottlecaps, otherwise we'll show you how raiders like to handle the poor folk. You don't want to know, do you?"

It was an extortion. Artyom had seen it before. Bourbon had to pay the Hansa guards back at the market station in order to allow him out. This was no different, except that he was armed and they were not. Yet, there was a small detail that concerned him. "Bottlecaps?"

"Yeah, bottlecaps. You know the small caps you see on top of that Sarsaparilla or Nuka Cola drinks? C'mon, you can't be that dumb."

"You don't use bullets?"

The two strangers glanced to one another and began to laugh. "Is this guy serious?" As soon as they stopped laughing, their attitude changed. "Enough bullshit, give us your shit."

"No." Artyom said in a firm tone. "I will not. I have a gun."

"I bet that piece of shit ain't loaded." He replied. "Hell, no one has them loaded 'round these parts. Leave your shit here or the Powder Gangers will be after your sorry ass." The half-naked ganger pulled out a switchblade from his pockets and readied himself.

The Duplet's barrels were aimed in their general direction as Artyom's finger rested on the trigger. "Try me."

"Let's gut this fucker, Steve." When the ganger took his first step, it would only become his finale one as well.

A loud blast echoed throughout the area as Steve jumped back in shock. Blood splattered all over his blue uniform with his head turned away from his companion. When he turned to see his remains littered on the ground, Steve glanced over to the stalker with the shotgun. There was one more shot left for Artyom to use. "You're going to pay for this!" The ganger charged forth with his baton in hand.

A second blast was wrought upon Steve, causing him to fall forward and land on the ground. Artyom pitied the man for what he did to him. He'll only have one leg to use for the rest of his life. The stalker opened his barrels as he tossed the empty shotgun shells aside so the new ones could replace them.

After he loaded his weapon, Artyom came over to the criminal and stomped his boot on the baton. Then he kicked the weapon to the side, only to put away his double-barreled shotgun and unsheathe his trench knife.

Steve turned his head with tears in his eyes. "Y-You shot my leg off! Why'd you do that you motherfucker?" His hands began to hold onto the remains of his left leg, screaming in agony.

Artyom knelt beside him with his knife above his head. "I want you to tell the rest of your gang, to keep to themselves. You understand?"

"My friends are nearby, they have more guns than you do!"

"Then you better hope you don't bleed to death." The stalker replied, before he smashed his knuckles into the back of the man's head. That should be enough to knock him out. As he rose from the ground, he knew he had to leave. If what he said was true, it was better to leave and hope they wouldn't follow him onto the road.

The young man was quick to depart from the bloody scene as his boots continued to grind in the sand. Hopefully, the Powder Gangers wouldn't come after him for this.

* * *

Once the patrols of these Powder Gangers were nowhere to be found, Artyom continued on his path. As the sun was high above him, his brow was covered in sweat as he saw the first sign of human habitation, a town. The closer he got, the more he noted the details of the location. "This must be Primm." He whispered to himself.

The stalker saw the town split in two, with a roller coaster surrounded by a grated fence on the left and remains of buildings on the right. A good place to rest at. Artyom continued walking as he noticed the bridge and it's underpass connecting the town together. Perhaps his attackers bypassed the town, but he needed answers. What better way to find answers than to ask the people who live here.

As he continued to walk into the only road within the town, he saw its outer defenses manned by armed men. Based on their uniforms, they were soldiers. Two men manned their posts with their rifles lowered, but still at hand. Their eyes looked far and wide at their surroundings before their gazes fell upon them.

When Artyom walked at the edge of the town, one of the men left their guard posts and came forward. With his weapon holstered, he hoped these men would not be terrible as the stories heard about the Nazis or the Communists.

The guard's silence did little to comfort the stalker, but once he finished a quick look at him he spoke. "Strange, we don't get travelers come by every now and then. Still, I think you need to be notified about what's going on here."

The Metro dweller was curious. "What happened?"

"You don't know?" The soldier asked. "Well, time to give you a run-down of the situation. Awhile ago, there was a prison breakout at the NCR Correctional Facility. The Powder Gangers killed the guards and took the place for themselves. If I were, I would head back and leave before the rest of their lost spill into the surrounding area. A few of them already found themselves a place in Primm."

"Are you soldiers of the NCR?"

"Aye. What about it?"

"Aren't you going to go and stop these Powder Gangers?" Artyom wondered. Why haven't these people taken care of them if they are an authority?

The NCR trooper shrugged his shoulder. "Orders. You can talk to Lieutenant Hayes, but the gist of it is that we don't have many men to put them in their place."

"Aren't you going to retake the town?"

"Again, we don't have enough men. If I were you, I suggest you head back." He replied.

Soon, he turned away and walked back into his defensive position alongside his companion.

How could these people be so complacent? In the Metro, there were bandits, but once groups like Hansa finally found a bandit's hideout they would expel them as soon as possible. Yet, here the people didn't do their job. What was wrong with this place? For soldiers, these people had less discipline than his neighbors in the home guard.

When Artyom stepped into the town, he noticed the area was in shambles as NCR soldiers walked passed him. Most of these men were around his age, but they expressed their boredom being in their duties. He heard stories of guards back at Exhibition that would mention their duties, but it wasn't as bad as this. Even as a stepson to Sukhoi, he occasionally found the guards happier doing their duties with others.

Then the young man walked towards the bridge, only to have the back of his collar grabbed by a heavy hand. "Are you crazy?"

Artyom turned around, only to find an NCR trooper holding his collar. "What?"

"The bridge is mined for crying out loud. One more step and you would have turned into red meat."

Looking down at the bridge, red dots blinked atop circular devices. These were mines, but they were not the kind he had expected. Artyom recalled stories about using regular grenades and turning them into tripwire mines. As he made a step away from the mine, the NCR trooper continued to chastise him.

"Watch where you step, it might be your last, kid." He soon walked away as Artyom continued down his direct path across the bridge. Unlike the traps that the bandits developed in the Metro, the mines were easy to detect. They beeped based upon vicinity as Artyom slowly moved to the right side of the bridge and began to crept past them by the edge.

Once he was across the bridge, the stalker made his way into the town with his Bastard gun ready. With each slow step, he began to notice the strange sights as he continued to step closer with caution.

On his right, he noted the building that expressed its job in bright lights.

'Mojave Express'

When Artyom looked at the building's front, a body lay there with blood staining his clothes. It must have been the work of the Powder Gangers. With the dead man's body pressed against the wall, Artyom walked towards the body.

Then he stopped when he heard a person shouting in the distance. "Open the door old man!"

He turned around and learned the voice was originating from the left side of the road. There were pillars that supported the building, but it would be useful to him as cover. The body can be taken care of after these people were taken care of.

Artyom slowly found a place behind a pillar that viewed the scene from afar, but enough to see what was happening before his very eyes.

Three men were standing at the front of the door with their guns drawn, with a fourth man knocking on the door. "You hear me, Nash? If you don't let us in, I'm going to bring the rest of my boys out and knock this door down."

An old raspy voice dismissed his threats. "Yeah, but we got every gun trained on that doorway. You wouldn't stand a chance even if you did break it down."

"Don't get so cocky ya son of a bitch." The man at the door took a step back. "We know you don't have any food in there to last you a week. The NCR ain't gonna come after us once this place is ours."

They were threatening the people who lived here. Artyom gritted his teeth. Just across the bridge, the NCR had soldiers that could come here and stop this from occurring. Why couldn't they just take a simple action and stop these people? It didn't make any sense at all.

Drawing his submachine gun, Artyom aimed his weapon down upon the men surrounding the door. Then he remembered the good advice when handling this weapon. Shoot the gun in short bursts. His sights focused on one of the men behind the rest of the group. As he was smoking a cigarette between his lips, Artyom placed his trigger finger into place. One single shot would end his life, but it would also alert the others.

Yet, he would also be outnumbered if it became a firefight. Then Artyom recalled the man mentioning the others. There had to be a better way to end this in a short matter. Soon, he saw a red stick attached to a man's belt. "I wonder…" Artyom trailed off.

One shot echoed out of his silenced weapon, but it was enough to do everything he wanted. The shot landed upon the red stick and a great explosion erupted from his beltline. However, it also affected those around him. The blast was enough to kill anything in range, but if it didn't the survivors would be bleeding to death.

Artyom rose from his cover as he began to walk forward towards the building's entrance, only to find the four bodies dismembered by his shot. It almost made him sick, thanks to the smell. As he walked over the dead, he began to loot their bodies for whatever ammunition he could use. Maybe he could find some ammo for the gun he had?

Upon looting the bodies, Artyom pulled a gun out of a dead man's grip. It was almost similar to the other weapon he looked upon his previous attacker, but it's design was simpler. "Interesting."

Before he could reach to a second body, he felt a barrel stick into his face. "Don't move, stranger." The young man froze in horror as his eyes began to look to his left. The doors were blown open, but that was not his concern.

What really mattered was the dozens of people aiming their revolvers at his general direction.

Then Artyom looked up to the man, whose revolver was pressed against his face. He was a bald, dark-skinned man, whose forehead had seen better days. Soon, he dropped his Bastard.

The stranger holstered his weapon as he nodded to the others. "See if you can find some way to put these doors back up. Don't want the others to find out." Then he turned his head back to the young man. "Why a youngster like yourself is here, I don't know, but I appreciate what you did here." His hand reached out to Artyom with an honest smile. "Name's Johnson Nash, I'll see if my wife can cook you a meal for what you did." Johnson's gaze fell upon his weapon. "Fancy gun, never seen that before?"

Looking back to his weapon, Artyom grabbed it from the ground as he rose from the bodies. "Sir, I have some questions for you."

"Get inside, I can answer 'em for you."

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry about not posting chapters, I have been busy with life and almost forgot about my fics. Do not worry, I like where this is heading enough to keep it alive.

* * *

 **b0ss** : No, sadly I will not make that crossover. I haven't played S.T.A.L.K.E.R. long enough to make a Metro 2033/S.T.A.L.K.E.R. crossover possible. Plus, I need to do plenty of planning since relics are involved.

 **DocHoliday0316** : Oh, Artyom will encounter the Courier later on, but those moments will be few.

 **Guest** : No. I will not.

 **Brandon Vortex** : Yeah, decided to have some of the Wild Wasteland perk that allows me to have some of the weird stuff included.


	6. Chapter 6: Sneeki Breeki

It had been days since his departure, but after dodging the Hanza stations. The man in debt was going to be meeting with one of the most respected organizations in the Metro. "Eh, things could be worse."

People who had traveled to Polis did so with a diplomatic status or were a passing merchant coming with supplies or news from the other stations. Anyone else who was neither of those two would be kicked out by the Order. Hopefully, his reason for coming to the front gates of the Polis would help him.

When he continued to step forward within the tunnel, he was soon surprised when dozens of lights flashed before his very eyes. Bourbon raised his hands to protect his eyes as he heard a man's voice shouting at him. "Who goes there?"

He felt there was just more than one Polis Ranger watching him behind those lights. Whoever it was, he had to answer him quick before they fired upon him. "Um. My name's Bourbon, I bring an urgent message from the Northern Frontier. Particularly from the station of Exhibition." He answered.

"What brings a traveler from Exhibition here?" The voice asked.

"Threat from the north."

"We already sent a Ranger up there."

The Ranger wasn't wrong. They did send one of their best to come and assist the people there against the Dark Ones. "Yes you did, but he didn't return. However, the leader of the station sent me here to tell you that we're under attack and it's not by mutants."

"If it's the Nazis or the Reds, you're out of luck my friend."

"The attackers are neither of them." Bourbon replied. "We were attacked by some guys wearing red and almost dressed up like Romans. I also have some evidence from the battle to prove to the Council."

Minutes of silence was all that remained as the drunkard waited for a response. "Alright, you've been given clearance into Polis. Keep your hands up and walk into the light."

"Okay, okay." Then he recalled an old connection that might work. "May I get an audience with Colonel Miller?"

"No, he's indisposed at the moment."

* * *

Artyom sat quietly in his chair as Johnson Nash sat across from him with a bottle in his hands. "So, you're looking for that white-checkered fella. What reason do you have with him?"

The stalker expressed a smile. "Stole my gun. I want it back."

"Stole your gun, you seemed angry. Why is that?"

"It belonged to someone who taught me how to survive." He answered.

Nash nodded his head, understanding the young man's situation. "Well, I don't know anything other than the fact he passed through here, but our deputy might help."

"Deputy? Who is that?"

"Second in command to the sheriff, people who make sure the town is nice and clean. They also keep the criminals back should someone cause some trouble." He took one swig at his alcohol. "Either the sheriff is locked up in his house, keeping the gangers back, or he's already dead. So the only one left is the deputy, but knowing him he's not capable of 'fending himself on his own."

Curious about what this deputy, Artyom spoke. "Where is this deputy?"

"Across the street in the large building. The rest of the gangers are wholed up there, trying to get us out of Primm."

"Why would they do that? The soldiers are just on the other side and could storm the building."

Nash shrugged his shoulders. "Gangers want their own territory and they're smart about it." He explained. "The NCR is spread out in multiple directions and should someone start causing problems here, they wouldn't have enough men to hold it. Those men on the other side of the bridge won't be helping us anytime soon. The best they can do is tell people to keep moving along while they contain the gangers."

Artyom leaned back at his predicament. The situation is not looking for him. Worst of all, he wouldn't have any assistance that he would normally get in the Metro or the Dead City. "What if I can take them out?"

Johnson raised an eyebrow at that proposal. "You? All by yourself? I don't know about you, youngster, but it would require at least three to five people. The people in this building don't have the guts to storm a building just like you. I don't know if you should be risking your life to get a deputy who could be a dead man as well."

"Perhaps, but I am good at what I do."

"You're going to have to prove it then. While you did take on three guys, there is about a dozen gangers in the building. I doubt you'll be able to handle them all by yourself."

The stalker knew his odds. "If I don't come back in the morning. You know I'm already dead."

"Good luck then."

Artyom stood up as he loaded his next magazine into his silenced Bastard. Unlike the bandits of the Metro, he didn't have the shadows to help him out. He was going to storm the building all by himself. As he began to walk out of the well-armed townspeople, he quickly ran across the street and made his way towards the front door.

Then a thought occurred to him. There was always an alternate entrance. Instead of using the main entrance, Artyom began to walk around the building from the right side as he began to check around the corner for any members of these powder gangers. Once he reached to the other side of the building, he saw a figure standing in the coasters above the ground.

The sentry displayed a complete disregard to his duty as he held a bottle in his hand. Good, the powder ganger was not paying attention. A price he would have to pay for simply being lazy.

He raised his Bastard and lined up the sights to the man's head, who remained underneath the moonlight. He had forgotten how much time had passed ever since he killed the previous group. Artyom pulled the trigger, enough for a single bullet.

Blood escaped from the other side of the powder ganger's head as his body fell forward and dropped into the sands. The sentry was down; however, there had to be a reason why he was on guard duty on that particular part of the railings. His eyes trailed upon the man's post and began to trace them into the building. It was connected to the door. "I doubt they would have a few guards on the other side of the building."

After running to find a way onto the railing, Artyom climbed his way up and felt a sense of sickness upon him. It wasn't the height that he was worried about, but it was the fall. If there was one matter this roller coaster had in common with the railings of the Dead City, disrepair. One bad step could be the end of him.

When he arrived at the alternate entrance, the stalker slowly turned the knob with his Bastard's barrel slipping into the opening into the doorway. As he scanned through, he found the doorway lead into a hallway. Artyom slipped through the doorway and closed it on his way in with his submachine gun at the ready. He peaked around the corner and saw two men walking within the hallway's confine.

The stalker aimed down his sights and made two taps on the trigger.

* * *

Deputy Beagle remained uncomfortable in his bindings as the powder gangers were outside of the kitchen minding their own business. The door to his right was an option, but it lead to a locked door that could only be opened by a key or someone with very good lock-picking. He didn't have both of course, but he wondered what the powder gangers would do to him later on.

He had overheard their conversation about using him as a hostage for the NCR and the townspeople. Even if the NCR assaulted the building, he was locked behind their 'stronghold' they could potentially kill him.

Beagle heard the sounds of a door knob turning on his right. Why would someone open through that part of the building? As it swung open, a young man stepped through a doorway with an automatic weapon that he had never seen before. It definitely was not a 10mm or a 9mm submachine gun. "Who are you?"

The young man turned his full attention on the deputy with his finger placed in front of his lips. "Quiet." He whispered in a strange accent. "I'm here to rescue you."

He nodded in acknowledgment. It was better to be silent than allow his captors to come for him and end his potential chance to flee.

Despite the man's sheer amount of gear and weapons, his footsteps were quiet as he made his way behind the prisoner's back. Once he cut the rope from his wrist, Beagle never felt so happy in his life. "I don't know who you are, but I appreciate what you are doing. Did you kill all of the powder gangers.?"

"No." The stranger replied. "I was able to knock most of them out. The others are in the mess hall and they don't seem keen on losing their sleep. Are you Deputy Beagle?"

"Yes, indeed I am. Who may I have the pleasure of knowing my rescuer?"

"My name is Artyom. I'm not from around here."

Beagle noticed the kitchen's front door slowly creak open as a powder ganger stepped into the room. "Alright, I'll go guard their deputy." The ganger walked into the room, but his attention was focused on the mess hall, on the other side of those doors. Once he closed those doors, he turned around and saw the duo standing before him. "What the-"

Artyom's reaction was quick when a blade flew into the powder ganger's throat. The criminal dropped to his knees as he tried to keep the blood from flowing. Yet, it was not enough as the young man walked towards him with his knife drawn. With a simple punch to the face, the man was knocked back with blood dripping on the floor. "Let's hurry before they notice the blood."

Whoever this man was, Beagle was fine that Artyom was on his side as his rescuer and not his enemy. Then they both began to creep through the side entrance as he saw the dozens of bodies lying on the ground. This man was able to do so much damage without alerting the powder gangers.

When they reached the front of the door, both men sprinted towards the Vikki and Vance Casino. One of the townspeople was near the doorway as he recognized Deputy Beagle running towards him. "Hey, the new guy got the deputy out. Tell Johnson!"

* * *

The camp was quiet as the Legion continued to train daily for a potential breakthrough. Although the NCR held a strong position on the other side of Hoover Dam, Caesar hoped that the small breakthroughs from Cottonwood Cove and Nelson. While Nelson was met with immediate resistance, his scouts had informed him that the NCR was committing resources and manpower trying to push them out.

To make the leader even content, the garrison at Forlorn Hope was ill-equipped to deal with the well-equipped Triarii.

In his seat, a man he trusted walked up to him and kneeled before him. "Rise Vulpes Inculta, what do you have to report from the south?" He asked.

The man wearing the wolf's skin as a hood rose from the ground and spoke. "My lord, the scouts from the strange phenomenon have returned and provided potential tribes to crush in your name."

Caesar raised an eyebrow. "Potential tribes?"

"Yes, they have made contact with these people through combat. Although they suffered severe casualties, these tribes are worthy to conquer and bring them into the fold my lord." Vulpes answered. "My scouts are attempting to adjust to the cold, but any attempt to reach the surface was met with hostile monsters and poisonous air."

"Interesting find. I will send a detachment to conquer these tribes; however, I will need you to focus on dismantling the NCR's hold around New Vegas. It is better to handle the prey we are hunting than wasting our time on one."

"I understand, my lord." Vulpes Inculta replied as he removed himself from Caesar's presence and walked out of his sight.

Then a man stepped into his court in his glorious armor. "My lord, you have called for me?"

"Yes, Legate Lanius," Caesar replied. "Were you able to eliminate the garrison north of Nelson?"

"No, the men sent to defeat the weaklings became cowards upon attacking the garrison."

"A failure on your part, I presume?" He implied.

Then the legate began to explain. "No. The survivors of the assault explain that there were dark mutated creatures that had attacked them during the assault. All they know is that they prevented them from assaulting the weak garrison that opposes us from the north."

"Mutant creatures? Did these men go into detail what they were doing there? Were they pets by the NCR sent to fight us?"

The masked leader shook his masked face. "Their excuse was that these creatures showed them visions of the past and their deeds in battle. I have made examples of them to ensure the Legion does not fail."

"Lanius, keep the garrison at Nelson on the defense. They will take the glory of dealing with the NCR while we prepare for the great battle to come." Caesar ordered. "For any offensive maneuvers, deploy your forces from Cottonwood Cove and harass the NCRs lines from there. They would have to pay the road's toll with their blood."

"Yes, my lord." The legate acknowledged.

Before the leader could leave, Caesar spoke a warning. "Do not fail me, again. Unless you wish to have the same fate of the previous Legate."

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry for the lack of a chapter. Currently handling my college stuff at the moment. Managed to get enough time to give you guys an update.

Later on, there is a chapter I also have prepared for you guys since I seemed to have forgotten about posting this one.


	7. Chapter 7: Don't Drink from Strangers

The young stalker was back on the road after he had liberated the town from the Powder Gangers. As much as he wanted to tell the authorities that the town was no longer in danger, but Johnson Nash spoke against the prospect. While it is an option, Primm's deputy spoke about a sheriff in the NCR Correctional Facility who could comfort the townspeople, but also bring back law into the town. Now he was going into the wolf's den of criminals and he hoped that they wouldn't attack him on sight now that he killed one of their own.

Johnson Nash said that beyond this hill, he would find the facility. As Artyom climbed the ridge, he heard a commotion of people and shouting on the other side. When he reached the top of the hill, he saw the facility before him.

It reminded him of the prisons he had seen through postcards, but seeing a real one with his eyes was something else entirely. Powder gangers walked throughout the courtyard with disregard for their littering, but the stalker also noticed the guard towers manned by the very same criminals. Aside from the towers, there were three buildings that were placed around the town. One was on the fence itself, perhaps that was how the authorities used to transfer prisoners. The second building was placed in the open and was closer to the first building. Then the last, but large building on the far left with a second floor.

Artyom slid down the hill and made his way towards the first building, but he saw a single guard leaning back on the door with his arms crossed.

When he arrived at the door, the stalker felt eyes on his body as the guard stepped forward and confronted him. "Hey, you? What are you doing here?" The guard demanded.

"I'm not NCR, if that is what you're wondering." Artyom replied.

"Alright then, but why are you here? I'm sure the NCR authorities would want your head if you come with us?"

"That is if they knew. I'm here to come and speak with someone, who just so happens to be in this place. He's a former sheriff."

The ganger raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you're talking about that Meyer's fellow. I still wouldn't let you in."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't fucking trust you, okay." He answered. "Unless, you have the caps for it?"

Caps. Artyom almost forgot that this place used a different currency than bullets. "I'll have to check my things. Give me a moment, how much would you let me in?"

"Two hundred I'd say. How about that?"

"Okay. Let me check." Artyom immediately reached into his backpack as he mindfully counted each bottlecap he grabbed by hand. Then he handed the man the caps.

"Thanks for the cash, welcome to the Correctional Facility." The ganger replied as the man zipped up his bag.

When Artyom walked into the building, he found himself surprised with Powder Gangers at their tables, drinking themselves away with bottles of Sunset Sarsparilla.

"He's on the left side." The guard said as he closed the door on his way in.

He took his advice and found a middle-aged man sitting in his chair, wearing a strange hat. When he made his way over to him, the stalker earned glares from the others. "What the fuck are you looking at?"

Artyom turned away from the Powder Ganger and took his seat across the man he was looking for. "Are you Meyer?" He asked.

The ex-sheriff raised his head and revealed his face from underneath the shadows of his hat. "Yes. Yes I am, but who would be the one asking? What is your name, kid?"

"My name is Artyom, I'm here to talk to you."

"Shoot. I'm sure a conversation might be worth it until the NCR sends someone to take back the place."

"How would like it if I told you that you could leave this place and become a sheriff of a town called Primm?"

Meyer expressed his surprise when he raised his eyebrows. "Sheriff? The last time I was a sheriff, I was sent here for taking the law into my own hands. Who's wanting me now?"

"Everyone in the town." Artyom began. "Turns out the sheriff and his wife were murdered when some criminals took over the town. I'm just passing by, but I'm doing errands for them to get what I want."

"Look, as much as I want to accept the offer I am a criminal in the eyes of the NCR. I'll head over to Primm and see if they'll like my idea of the law, but if you want me to be the town's sheriff go to the NCR Mojave Outpost and tell them to give me a pardon." He told the young man. "If they want to get all uppity about it, tell them my sentence is almost over and an early release wouldn't hurt." Then he rose from his seat. "Now if you excuse me, I'll be making my way to Primm and see if the folk there would appreciate my company. As for you, it looks like you're going to staying here longer than I am."

Confused by his words, he saw the ex-sheriff point his finger behind his back. When he turned around, he was confronted by three men dressed in armor. However, one of the men had a baton ready in his arms. "You must be the guy that shot Chavez in the knee." He demanded. "My boys heard about you and I never thought you would come into this place expecting that we won't notice."

The man was not wrong as Artyom stood up and kept his gaze on the leader. "Who are you?"

"My name's Eddie. I'm the one who got this ragtag group of guys who killed the guards and took this place over. While I wouldn't normally welcome anyone here, you made the guy almost bleed to death when the second group of guys were coming around."

"Then what will happen next?" He asked. Suddenly meeting the leader of criminals didn't comfort the stalker that much. "Are we just going to talk?"

"Yeah, we will. You see, I appreciate what you did to Chavez some I'm going to give you an opportunity." Eddie explained. "The guys I've sent out in Primm have been killed and I think the NCR are up to something since we took this place from them. Learn what they plan to do to us and tell me everything they've got planned, ya hear? I'll give you a reward for it if you do manage it."

The mention of his men killed at the town almost made Artyom smile, but doing so would make him admit that he was the one who committed the deed. Still, it felt good that his actions were doing something. "What kind of reward?" He had to tell the NCR soldiers outside of town the Powder Gangers presented. "I'm curious."

"I have a safe for someone who can make sure the NCR doesn't come back and string us from the towers and hopefully, it can be you. What do you say about it? Will you do it?"

Considering his choices and the number of Powder Gangers present in the room, Artyom conceded to him. "Yes, I'll see what the NCR has planned for you."

"I'll be waiting then. You better give me something to hear. If you're going to go, go."

Good, now was his time to leave this place. As the stalker made his way towards the door, a Powder Ganger stepped in and ran towards Eddie. "Boss, Joe Cobb's group was wiped out!" Artyom overheard the runner say. "Him and his boys were killed by the townspeople and some blonde bitch."

Eddie's irritation could be heard. "I told that idiot not to overextend. What the fuck was he thinking? See boys, this is why you should stick with me and not with Joe."

Stepping outside of the concrete building, Artyom swore it was warmer inside when he was in the presence of the criminal leader.

* * *

It was a very long walk from Primm and Artyom had already came across more creatures of the Mojave Wasteland. Strange insects that he had seen in books that were once smaller than a boot, but were just as large as a railcar. Thankfully, they were not immune to revolver ammunition.

Now that he thought about it, he had to find a stable weapon that he wouldn't worry about ammunition. He checked his Pip-Boy and inspected what was in his inventory. There was his weapons he had on his person and then there were the weapons he picked off the dead or scavenged in the wild. Then the stalker's eyes found the weapon that once belonged to someone who tried to kill him.

'10mm Pistol'

It was probably a weapon just as common as the revolver in the Metro. When his eyes rested upon the ammunition, it specifically told him the type of ammo and the amount he had.

'12/76'

His scavenged weapon had enough ammo for him to use. As he holstered his revolver, Artyom reached into his backpack and pulled out the 10mm Pistol from the darkness as he continued to make his way up the road. As the stalker continued up this unmaintained road, he saw a lightly armored man with a two-headed creature escorted by two guards. When they passed by, the man tipped his hat with a smile on his face before proceeding down the hill.

They must have been caravaners. He had seen them before in the Metro, but they were dead with their belongings before he would make contact with the men who killed them. Still, if caravaners were passing by then there had to be places they stopped at. Artyom looked at his Pip-Boy once more and saw a map of him heading towards his reference marker.

When his eyes looked up, he was surprised in awe. There was nothing like this in the Metro. Two statues of men were shaking hands in strange clothes despite being made out of scrap metal. Still, it was a sight to see when he walked underneath their shadow and was met with NCR soldiers moving to and fro. This must have been the outpost himself.

All he needed to do, in order to get Deputy Beagle to speak, was speak to the man in charge of this place.

On the left, Artyom saw two buildings contained in a fenced area while a pile of sandbags were set up near the fence entrance. Despite the traffic of NCR troopers going in and leaving the building, the stalker saw people in a different set of uniforms walk out of the building with their belongings. Clearly, civilians were allowed to walk inside.

He made his way towards the entrance as he heard a conversation between two troopers behind the building. "You should have seen what had happened a couple nights ago, two guys were running here with a pack of giant scorpions after them."

"Yeah, I heard about it. What's so special 'bout them?"

"Turns out that they're heavily armed for prospectors and that they're not from the Mojave nor the East of Hoover Dam. They just explained that they just suddenly appeared outside the front door."

"Do you believe that shit? I mean, they must have been on chems to think that up."

"I've seen guys on chems, but these guys are different. Turns out they have weird markings that no one knows how to read and that they're wearing their wear of radiation suits."

"Bullshit?"

"If you say so, but if you want proof go meet the guys in the barracks."

When Artyom slipped into the front building, he felt relieved when his body felt the cool air inside. They must have had an air conditioning system in this place.

A man standing across the desk took notice of his presence and gestured him to come forward. The young man did so as this officer of the NCR seemed to express great interest in him. "Welcome to the Mojave Outpost." He began. "State your name and profession, if you're wondering I'm doing this to record anyone passing through."

"My name is Artyom and I'm a stalker."

The man immediately stared at him with surprise. "Stalker, you are the third person who said that."

"Wait, there are other stalkers here?"

He nodded his head in confirmation. "Yeah, they're in the barracks getting drinks from Cass. Just so you know, my name is Major Knight and I am in charge of this garrison. So what business do you have here?" He asked.

"There is a man was in the NCR Correctional Facility north of here, he's a prisoner there. I'm here to get him a pardon for his crime."

The major's expression changed from a welcoming tone into a harsh one. "Pardoning a criminal? Who do you think I am? Those Powder Gangers down there killed the men in charge, but also are harassing travel throughout the area. Why should the NCR pardon this one?"

Artyom was quick to remember what Meyers told him. "You see, the Meyers isn't part of the Powder Gangers. In fact, he was waiting out his sentence and was almost finished with it until they killed the guards. He hasn't left the place since he doesn't want any trouble with the NCR."

"I can't easily give one criminal a pardon based on the word of a single individual."

"True, but he's an ex-sheriff and some of the people at Primm want him to become their sheriff to keep the Powder Gangers off their backs." Maybe… Artyom shouldn't have mentioned that.

"Huh?" Major Knight thought about it for a moment. "Never thought I would hear something like that. A former ex-sheriff killing his fellow convicts in the name of the law. How about this? I'll pardon this man, but the NCR will keep a close eye on the man."

If there was one thing the Russian stalker knew, he was never a gambler and here he was gambling his chance to allow a man to be free. Would he want to make the chances of something better for Meyers or would he settle on what Major Knight was offering? Artyom wanted to help Meyers even further, but a sense of dread overcame him when he considered a better deal. "I will go tell Meyers about this." No, it was sufficient enough to keep the ex-sheriff out of prison at the very least.

"Very well. Before you leave, I got to make this pardon official in case the authorities haven't caught up with it." Major Knight looked down behind his counter while Artyom heard a click and a large stamp pressed against his workspace. Then he brought out a single sheet of paper towards him. "Here is the guy's pardon. Should the authorities ask questions, they can come to me about his pardoning stamp."

Artyom nodded, acknowledging his words. "Thank you, major. I'll go tell him right away." On his way out of the building, Artyom wondered whether he should head back to Primm or meet with the stalkers that were mentioned in the barracks. He hadn't met someone from the Metro for quite some time and perhaps he might know what is going on.

Once he entered the barracks, he was surprised to see there was a bar before him. The dark-skinned bartender, behind the counter, waved her hand at him with a smile. "Welcome to the barracks, are you here for a quick drink?"

He stepped forward and took his seat on the stool beside the woman drinking away, silently. "No, I'm looking for two stalkers that were told that they were here."

The bartender was about to speak, but the voice came from his left. "If you're looking for them, they're on the mats across the road."

The Russian turned his full attention towards him. "Thanks, I appreciate the directions."

"You're just like them, a stalker."

"You know them?!" Artyom asked.

"Keep your voice down, I don't need to hear something loud right now." She replied. "Yeah, I know them. We ended up having one hell of a drink last night, on my caps though. However, I got to ask, what is a guy like you doing here?"

"Well, I'm getting someone a pardon from the NCR. Turns out I'm a bit successful."

The person looked up from underneath her hat and expressed her curiosity. "You know, that is something to celebrate. Why not drink to freedom?"

"I should go, it might not be in my best interest-"

"Kid, don't be a pussy." The bartender asked. "It's only going to be one drink."

The young woman pulled out a bag of caps and handed it to the bartender. "I'm just going to get the whiskey. The other drinks are just not my forte, if you understand."

Artyom hesitantly nodded. "I… do. I'm just not a drinker."

"Weird that your stalker buddies said that drinking keeps the radiation away. I want test what other drinks do." The bartender took her amount of bottlecaps and gave Artyom and the woman bottles of whiskey. "Drink up kid, celebrate your pal's freedom."

He grabbed his bottle while he watched the person beside him drink up. Then he looked down at his alcoholic beverage and felt a sense of uneasiness in his mind. As much as he didn't want to drink, the expectations of the bartender and the woman placed more pressure on him. Artyom reluctantly raised his drink as the whiskey entered his throat.


	8. Chapter 8: The Company You Keep

When he opened his eyes, the young man found himself falling. As he descended further, he found the a small island of concrete ground in this strange, but familiar place. Artyom screamed as he braced for the impact when he was about to land. Yet, when his face crashed into the concrete, he was not met with any bruises and was not drawing any blood.

He pushed himself off the ground and found himself stuck in this strange place that he knew little of. Then his body felt _something_ from a certain direction. Looking around, Artyom wondered where it was coming from and who was it that brought him here. His eyes found a small path presented before his very eyes, the only path from this strange realm he found himself in.

Taking his chances, he took the path and walked through. When he reached the other end, more pieces of concrete appeared and set themselves into place like a puzzle. What did he drink to deserve this?

Then his body felt a danger that something very familiar was also here. 'Artyom…'

That enough caused him to look around in fear as the stalker looked around once more, wishing to know who was here. "Who are you and where am I?"

'We come for peace… Do not be afraid… We are here to help…'

When Artyom turned around, he recognized the tall skinny creature clad in darkness. It's eyes staring into his soul walking forward and towards him. "You? Why did you attack my home, why Exhibition?" He demanded. "Why are you here?!"

The creature lowered its head as if it was ashamed. 'It was a misunderstanding.' It said. 'We didn't intend for a fight to happen.'

He gritted his teeth. "Didn't intend? How many people died trying to keep you from taking our station? Innocents died all because of you."

'You're not wrong.' The Dark One admitted. 'We tried to communicate to your kind, but you were afraid and tried to kill us. It was never our intention to continue the harm of your kind.' Then it looked up to him. 'We are not the monsters you think we are. Rather than continue what goes in your home, we gave you an option. A way out from that kingdom of darkness. This place.'

Artyom stood there, frozen at its revelation. "You sent me here, why? For what fucking reason do you have to send me here?" He was angry and he deserved to be. He was ripped away from his home against his will and dropped in this place. What right did these creatures have to send him away?

'The fate of the Metro is not a bright future. It will crumble underneath the blood of many, innocent or guilty.' The Dark One explained. 'There is very little hope in those tunnels - but here? You have a chance.'

"A chance for what?" He wondered.

'Redemption… for the sins of your kind…'

* * *

Artyom was taken away from his dreams as he felt the sands of the Mojave Wasteland bring him back to reality. His eyes flickered open and adjusted to the morning light. It must have been the so-called whiskey these people drink at the bar. Still, the hard liquor was a very powerful thing compared to the mushroom vodka he once had in Riga. Then he tried to raise himself off the ground, but noticed something wrong as he tried. The stalker was met with weight of another, who was resting on his chest with her hands tugging around his arms. "What happened?" Artyom wondered.

He heard a small groan coming from the stranger sleeping comfortably on him. "We had plenty of whiskey last night." The person answered. "Though you weren't able to hold your glass, you lightweight." It was a slight jab at him, but there was some truth to that. He was told that the mushroom vodka was the least alcoholic beverage in the Metro and it didn't surprise him that he failed to hold his own. After all, he wasn't like Bourbon. "Since the NCR doesn't offer pillows at this place, give me a few minutes. I haven't laid my head on anything soft for awhile."

She wanted to rest on his body because he felt like a pillow? Artyom didn't know whether to consider that an actual insult or simply her talking. He laid back down and rested his head in the dirt as the stranger quietly slept on his chest. Although it was a strange thing to happen to him, there was a sense in comfort about it.

Minutes passed while the stalker kept his eyes straight towards the great blue sky above him. It was weird, but he appreciated the sight of seeing the sky with his own eyes without his gas mask.

Sadly, Artyom's observation of the sky was short-lived when a woman, wearing a hat, and a pair of shades stood over him with her head aimed down on him. Unlike the NCR troopers, she was different from the rest of their lot. Instead, she was wearing a badge on the front of her hat with pride. "Look at that, how adorable." She commented. "While I would like to leave you two in your beauty sleep, you can't stay here long. Both of you get up."

The woman on his chest did as she was told while sitting up from beside the stalker. "Ghost, don't you have anything better to do? You know? Guarding the outpost?"

"Up yours, Cass." Ghost replied. "I'm not the one moping around at the bar. You better get going or we might kick you out."

"Don't worry, I'm going to leave soon." Cass stated. "Just give me a few moments to get my head straight."

When Artyom rose from the sand, the woman turned her full attention on him. "Alright kid, what the hell are you still doing here? Weren't you supposed to deliver that pardon to one of your pals?"

"Don't worry about this guy, it was my fault I got him to drinking."

Ghost silently stared at the young woman with a cold expression before turning her full attention on him. "Rumor has it that you were wondering about the other stalkers that were present. Do you have any reason why you're looking for them?"

Artyom nodded in acknowledgement. "Yes, I heard there were two more stalkers nearby and I wanted to see if they were from the same place as me. You know, just to get a friendly conversation going."

"Last I saw them, they were heading east to a town called Nipton."

"Thanks for the directions."

"If you think I would just give you information for free, you're just wrong. Don't worry, it's not as bad as you think it is." Ghost began. "What I want you to do before you find those two, is to recon what his happening at Nipton. I'm seeing smoke coming from the town and as much as I would love to go there myself, Ranger Jackson is keeping me tied up here."

Cass snickered at her. "I'd hate to be you."

"Likewise, Cass, likewise." Then she turned around and walked away from the duo.

As Artyom patted the dust off his clothes, Cass gave out her hand to him. "That was one hell of a night we both had. I wonder if we could do it again some other time?"

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I'm not much of a drinker."

"Why? Is it because it's bad in your religion?"

"No, it dulls the senses. I prefer not to be drunk when I'm shooting things." Artyom answered. "For all you know, I might shoot you just because I thought you were a mutant."

Cass laughed at him. "You know what I hate the most? People who can't hold their own drink. Since you seem to be leaving and I'm about to get kicked out, how about I join you? I get to help handle your liquor and you get someone to watch your back."

He began to scratch the back of his head. "I don't know…"

"Let's look at it this way, you get to sleep comfortably for the night without having to worry about some raider or fiend slit your throat."

Now _that_ was pragmatic and practical thinking. He never thought about the benefits of having a partner around, but then again he didn't know better. After all, the young man lived in tunnels. "Alright then, we should introduce each other if you want to be in my company." He gave out his hand to the cowgirl, who immediately grabbed his hand. "My name is Artyom."

"I'm Rose of Sharon Cassidy, but I prefer you call me Cass." The girl replied. "You haven't earned that right to use the rest of my name." Her name was long, no doubt about it. Yet, why did she want to say that. "When do we leave?"

"Soon, I'm going to make a quick stop to Primm before we help out Ghost with whatever she needs. Let's go." He said before he walked past Cass and made his way towards the fenced gate.

* * *

It had been a day since Bourbon delivered evidence from Exhibition to the Spartan Order about the attacks from the Northern Frontier. Once kept in waiting, the drunkard sat in an office in the company of two Polis Guards. It irked the stalker that the guards were silent throughout the time spent waiting here. Everything changed when the door was swung open. The silence of the soldiers was broken when they saluted their superior.

When he passed the men, he was quick to dismiss it. "At ease, Rangers." The commander said before walking pass Bourbon and taking his seat across from them. Unlike the freshly shaven guards, this man wore a full beard and a uniform far different from the others. "Ah, you must be the messenger from Exhibition. Did more trouble bring you here?"

Bourbon shook his head. "Nope, a true threat to the Metro."

"Didn't we send a Ranger over there to take care of your Dark One problem?"

"He didn't never returned from the northern tunnels." He added. "You were supposed to get a message from him, but I persuaded the boy from not getting himself killed trying to get here."

"You know you shouldn't interfere with the Order's matters." The veteran Ranger stated. "It's a criminal offense."

"I know, Colonel Miller, but it wasn't worth Sukhoi's stepson. The station is living by a thread and he's the clip holding it together."

Miller's glaring blue eyes calmed down. "Okay, I understand his position. I have a child as well. So, the boys from the armory inspected the weapons you brought from Exhibition. Says the station was under attack, by whom?"

"I don't know." Bourbon answered. "All I know is that they're a bit barbaric considering they also use throwing spears."

"Then why come here if you can handle them?"

"Exhibition needs your help. Mutant attacks have made its defenders weary and manpower is a shortage. They're getting help from Riga, but it still is not enough."

The colonel nodded his head. "You've convinced me to see everything myself."

"How so?"

"Before I came here, one of the weapons you brought is not from the Metro. It doesn't use the same caliber as some of our guns nor is the weapon from Russia."

Bourbon raised his eyebrows. "Not from Russia? How do you know?" He wondered.

"It's the serial number." Colonel Miller stated. "Plus, it's design isn't made in the Metro."

"Well, when are we going back to Exhibition?"

"Soon. I'm going to have to present this to the Council and solidify about the threat in the Northern Frontier. What else do you have for me?"

"The attackers, they almost resemble something like Romans." He answered. "I know, it's weird, but it's true."

"Duly noted. I'll be going now, but find a Ranger named Uhlman. He'll be gathering my men together."

Bourbon nodded, acknowledging the Polis Colonel's orders. As they both rose from their seats and exited the office, the stalker found the bright lights of the underground city.

* * *

Two stalker partners arrived at the town known as Nipton. It didn't seem like there many people in the town, but from the way it was handled there was nothing wrong with the town. One of the men took a cigarette from his pockets and lit the end with his flamethrower. "You know, Simon. I'm starting to like this place. Do you think they'll give a job to do around here?" He wondered before lowering his flamethrower and turning off the lighter.

His friend, a man carrying a single-shot shotgun shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I just don't like it that we're not in the Metro anymore. Hell, the people here don't use bullets as a currency."

"I don't know about you, but it's one hell of a way to start anew. Our business is about salvaging shit, so how about we get paid for our services."

"Petrovich, I think there is something wrong with you. You're not known for being an optimist." Simon commented on his flamethrower companion.

"Don't be all sad, it's not like we don't have to worry about paying the Hanza tax every time we get a good haul."

When the duo reached the T crossing in the road, they were both disturbed by the silence in the town as they turned their heads towards their left. Then Petrovich pointed his finger at the road ahead of him before his lips dropped his cigarette. "What the fuck are they doing?"

Simon's eyes widened when he saw people nailed to crosses while others were burned at the stake. There were a group of men, who almost resembled Romans, while two unarmed men in blue uniforms stood within their presence. One of the men brought a hammer and smashed his knee while another talked to the other.

One of the captives departed from the scene as the other was writhing in pain before the presence of the Roman-like people. As the stalkers were busy on looking at the man crying out for help, they didn't notice that they were walking towards them.

Petrovich tapped him by the shoulder. "I don't know where we ended up in, but I think we should leave."

One of the Roman-like people stepped forward and spoke out to them. "Do not leave." He began in a eccentric voice. "In fact, your untimely arrival is perfect for us."

"What the hell are you going to do? Beat us to death?" Simon questioned as he was easily disgusted by the way they handled the people of this town.

"We could, but who would be left to send our message." The man replied. "This town has committed deeds of evil and we are here to teach them a lesson about their foolish debauchery. They waste themselves in squalor without purpose… until we arrived - Caesar's Legion." What right did this man have to punish an entire town because of their deeds? He wasn't a god. "My name is Vulpes Inculta and I want you to head west and tell the NCR this, we are coming."

Simon gritted his teeth as he gripped his hands. "What you did is evil, pure evil. You burned the innocent alive."

"Innocent?" Vulpes question. "These were wicked people and there was nothing innocent about them. You may attack us, but both of you will be more examples of why Caesar's Legion is the mightiest of them all." The man turned around as ignored them. "Come now, we must speak to Caesar of our success."

The stalker was about to reach for his Ashot, but his friend whispered to him. "Simon, are you sure we should be fucking with this guy?"

He shook his head in disbelief. "Petrovich, these people killed an entire town for no reason. I will not let him get away with this."

Petrovitch nodded and accepted his companion's willingness. "Okay then, if you're going to get yourself killed like this, mind as well join you." Then he turned on his flamethrower. "Are you ready?"

Simon reached for his Ashot. "Definitely. Head first, I'll cover you. Time we teach them their own medicine."

The stalker with the flamethrower stepped forward as his raised his flamethrower in the direction of the Legion. Some of the men noticed their intention of attack, but it was too late when they were met with fire and shotgun pellets. The fire reached out to the men of the Legion, who tried to flee, but were caught in the flames of Petrovich's doing. His companion with the shotgun saw one of the Legionnaires raise his throwing spear, but he immediately blasted him back with a single shell.

"Alright friend, I'll hold my position and you hit the fuckers on the right flank."

"Yeah, got it." Petrovich answered as he held off his flames and disappeared behind the lines of building.

While the fires still burned, Simon saw an automatic weapon on the ground in the hands of a charred man. It almost resembled an American's rifle long before the bombs, what a convenient complement to his shotgun. The man sprinted forth and looted the weapon off the dead body along with several mags in case he needed to reload. Gunfire flew in his direction as he shifted to a building on his left. "Shit!"

More gunfire erupted as the bullets peppered the brick near the edge. They were suppressing him.

Then he heard more spews of fire along with the screams of many more of these Legion bastards. Yet, Petrovich's deed halted the gunfire for a moment. Looking around the corner of the building, Simon saw two men shift their fire while they backed away from their burning comrades. One held a shotgun and the other was carrying a bolt-action rifle. At the same time, they were perfect targets.

He raised his weapon and lined up his shots, only to see their terrified faces at the sight of the dead. Two men were killing their entire group. Guess they didn't expect to find someone to avenge these people. Two bursts were all that were needed to keep the fuckers in their place.

When the fighting was over, Simon stepped out from his cover and began to make his way towards his recent kill, while salvaging any equipment that wasn't burnt by the flamethrower. Out from the right side of the road, Petrovich joined him as he steadied his weapon. "You know, you're a crazy bastard. I thought we might die."

After finding his new shotgun and obtaining the ammunition for it, Simon gritted his teeth.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

The stalker shook his head in disappointment. "The guy who bragged about this shit? He's not here. He ran off in the middle of the fighting. Fucking coward!"

"Don't worry, my friend. He'll have to answer for this." Replied Petrovich. "Everyone does."


	9. Chapter 9: First Impressions

At the arrival of the town, it still remained quiet and unoccupied as Artyom and Cass found themselves at the center of the road. The few times the duo have spoken to one-another was the threat of the giant ants, the radscorpions, and the geckos. Unlike the first time he had met Cass, she didn't seem to express her enthusiasm like she had at the Mojave Outpost. Then he noticed her pull out a bottle of whiskey and pulled the cork out. "Why are you drinking right now?"

The cowgirl shrugged her shoulders and drank down her alcoholic beverage. "I don't know about you, but I have my own reasons." Cass answered. "That being said, what do you plan to do once you find those other stalkers? Are you going to go on some kind of prospector expedition?"

Artyom shook his head at the thought. "No, nothing like that. More like I just wanted to talk with them about stuff about the Metro and exchange whatever news we have. It's not much, but every piece of information counts."

"You and those other stalkers keep talking about this 'Metro'. Where is this place?" She wondered. "Quite hard to get a clear idea on what it is."

"The Metro? It's really easy. The Metro is an underground system of tunnels that were designed for trains." He answered. "It also serves a purpose as a nuclear shelter in case Moscow is targeted for nuclear annihilation."

Cass raised an eyebrow. "So you're some kind of vault dweller? Do you live in a hole in the ground and don't have to worry about everything on the surface?"

Artyom shook his head. "No, it wasn't that easy. We were all still prone to the dangers of radiation and the mutants. There have been stories where entire stations are surviving by a thread after being attacked by packs of mutants while others break into gangs or bandits and lurk in certain tunnels. That's not counting the war between the factions."

"Wait, you guys have your own little war going in your Metro? What reason do you guys have to become like the NCR or the Legion? That doesn't make any sense."

"I could say the same about it, but some people fight one-another for different reasons. There is The Red Line and then there is the Fourth Reich, I haven't met them either group, but they're worse than the NCR and the Legion."

The cowgirl crossed her arms and confronted him. "These guys can't be that bad. Does the Metro pass Legion's punishment by nailing people on a cross or burning them at the stake?"

"No, but I've heard that the Nazis use prisoners and slaves for target practice." Artyom answered. "I've even heard stories about the Nazis gassing entire people because of a few mutations."

"Okay, maybe a little. Ever wonder why they do it?"

He nodded his head. "Some tunnels haven't been maintained, which resulted in their collapse, but it also brings radiation from the surface and some people have been unlucky enough to get mutations because of them."

"In other words, the Metro is very different from a Vault."

"Yes."

"Thanks for explaining your home to me." Cass replied. "Helps me learn about who I'm traveling with. Have you traveled in the Metro on foot?"

"Most of the time." He answered. "Some tunnels have caved in or blocked by some old trains. So yeah, I have traveled on foot."

"Good, I don't want to be in a company of some city boy who doesn't know how to handle himself."

A voice spoke out from behind the stalker's back. "Hey, did you get my pardon yet?"

Artyom turned around, only to find Meyers leaning his back on a pillar with a toothpick between his lips. "Meyers, I was just looking for you."

The ex-sheriff took a quick glance at the young man before he chuckled. "So that's what kept you away for awhile, I thought you left me to hang. Though, I couldn't blame you if you saw a desert rose like that."

"Just who the hell are you?" Cass demanded.

"Ma'am, you can call me Meyers." He answered. "I'm an ex-sheriff from the NCR Correctional Facility." Then he returned his full attention on the young man. "Alright kid, do you have my pardon? I was hoping you were here on my behalf."

"Here." Artyom complied as he reached into his pockets and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. "Major Knight didn't agree that you should be out of prison, but I've convinced him."

Meyers smiled as he reached for his paper. "That will do. I'll start talking to the folk here and give them the good news. It will be a lot better than living under martial law."

Before the sheriff could leave, a reminder of the NCR CF gang came up. "Meyers, do you have any news on what the NCR is going to do to the correctional facility?"

"Yeah, Mr. Nash talked with me about it. The NCR are going to retake the facility in force with two-three platoons from Golf. Don't tell them I knew about it, those military fellows don't like it when information is leaked."

"Thanks."

"No problem.." Meyers stated before he made his way into the 'Vikki and Vance' casino.

"What do you know? I found myself in the company of a helper." Cass commented. "What are we going to do?"

Artyom looked over his shoulder. "I'm going to talk to the NCR."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't bore yourselves with those guys, it shouldn't be our problem."

"Well, we could always help them handle their problem."

"Wait a minute, you're going to help the NCR retake the correctional facility? Why do that?"

"A guy from the Powder Gangers doesn't have a leg because of me." The stalker answered. "If I'm going to travel from here to Goodsprings, I would prefer that the roads are safe to walk on. It is better if we take care of them before they start going after me."

"If we're going to fight them, I think we should learn about what we're good at we want to help out the NCR."

As the duo were walking across the bridge, Artyom was first to speak up. "If you want to know, I have an SMG, a double-barreled shotgun, a revolver, a couple of grenades, and some throwing knives." He listed. "That's not counting the military grade ammo I also have with me."

"Military grade ammo?" Cass asked. "What the hell is that?"

"Back in the Metro, it's pretty much currency there. It's not recommended, but I do have the option to use them if I run out of dirty bullets."

"Then the Metro must be really bad if you're using bullets as money." Then she changed the subject with her own inventory. "Aside from the caravan shotgun I have, there are a couple sticks of dynamite I do carry around just so we can kill plenty of stuff together. I don't have any other guns with me so we'll have to make do with what we got."

"We could always loot off the dead if we're desperate." Artyom suggested. He had done it plenty of times in the Metro, whether it be a bandit's corpse or a skeleton that had some ammo set aside.

"If we're really desperate, then yeah. I can handle that. You'll just have to cover me when I do."

"More like the opposite."

Cass raised her eyebrows. "Pardon me, but you have more guns."

"True." He admitted. She wasn't wrong about that. "But I'm also quick and getting the ammo and the guns off the dead."

"If you say so."

Then they arrived at the command tents based around a single campfire. "We can adjust our tactics after I talk with Lieutenant Hayes." The young Russian replied. "Stay here, I'll talk with him."

As the stalker made his way into the tent, he found the NCR officer placing his hands on the map and pointing at the facility. "-the facility will be breached from these two entrances so the Powder Gangers don't consolidate into a single force. Clear the buildings one-by-one and give them no quarter." When the lieutenant looked up from his map and saw Artyom in the doorway, he folded his map. "What the hell? You shouldn't be in here." Then he looked to the NCR trooper beside him. "Didn't I send someone to guard the camp?"

"Lieutenant Hayes, I heard about your plan for the correctional facility."

The lieutenant reached for his holster and pulled out a pistol. "You shouldn't know that. It's classified information."

"I know." He replied. "I wanted to tell you… I want in on it."

"You want to help us?" Hayes questioned. "Why?"

"If the Powder Gangers continue to remain unchallenged then I'm going to be on their hitlist for killing one of their men." Artyom answered. "If I help you then you have a couple of hands to help you retake the place."

The officer looked past the stalker as Artyom saw him having eye contact with Cass. "I see. If you're going to help us, I recommend that you meet up with Sergeant Lee and fill you in on the rest."

Before he could depart, he gave a small nod to the head and walked out of the tent with satisfaction. It had turned out better than Artyom had anticipated. Now he was going to get rid of the Powder Gangers for good. Yet, it also consoled the young man that he was doing something to help people and wondered about his home station in the Metro. Could he do the same to help Exhibition as well?

When Cass noticed his exit out of the tent, she was quick to accompany him. "What did they say? Are we in or not?"

Artyom smiled. "Lieutenant Hayes wants both of us to meet with his men. We're in."

"Good, now we can hunt some shitheads."

* * *

After a long walk from Primm within the night, Artyom heard a small clinking and a pull from his neck. He reached down into his shirt and pulled out a dog tag, only to see the last reminder of an old friend - Hunter. "What's that?" He heard Cass comment. "It looks special."

Once he pulled the chain off his neck, he smiled at the sight. "It belonged to a… friend."

"Must be one hell of a pal if you're wearing it. Who was he?"

"His name was Hunter." Artyom answered. "He was sort of like an uncle to me and was a Polis Ranger - the best of the Order."

"He sounds like a swell guy, do you think I might meet him?" Artyom stopped in his tracks as Cass walked ahead. Once she realize she was leaving him behind, the cowgirl was quick to come back to him. "Artyom are you alright? Did I say something wrong?"

He lowered his head and sighed. "It's nothing."

Cass walked up to him and crossed her arms. "Bullshit." She said. "Look, I'm sorry if I did something to upset you."

"Apologies for acting like that." Artyom answered. "It's just that the last time I saw Hunter, he handed his dog tags to me just so he can save my station... he never came back." Then he raised his head and slipped the tags back across his neck. "My memory of that moment is very recent."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." Then she presented a pendent from her neck. "My dad left me at a very young age and never came back. This is all I have left of him. So that makes two of us. C'mon, let's go meet with up with that NCR force before we start talking about ourselves, okay?"

He nodded his head. "I am sorry about that."

"No worries, we'll keep this between us."

The two continued to walk forward until they found a group of NCR troopers standing around a single man. Once they noticed them, they broke away and began to make their way towards him. Unlike the other troopers, this one had a rank on his helmet. "You must be the guys Lieutenant Hayes sent." He began. "Are you two ready to break into the correctional facility?"

"Definitely." Cass commented.

"Yes sir." Answered Artyom.

"Good." Sergeant Lee replied. "We've gotten close enough to set up some explosives along the fence and once they go off, we go in and kill them all. Not a single Powder Ganger should be allowed to escape, understand?"

Cass and Artyom nodded their heads. "We understand." They said.

"Now get into position, the fight is about to start."

The NCR troopers, the cowgirl, and the stalker took their positions upon a hill overlooking the prison's positions while Sergeant Lee waited for the signal to go. As time began to pass by, Artyom felt dread just waiting for the time to strike. He watched from the hill, only to see members of the Powder Gang stumble around in the courtyard. The last time he fought such criminals was when he was with Bourbon, but there were fewer men and were easier to take down in close-quarters. This was different. Instead, he was up against an entire facility filled with killers.

To his surprise, he felt a tap on his shoulder thanks to a whiskey bottle held by cass. The cork was open and when the young man took a glance at his companion, he found her wiping away the traces from her lips. "Drink it." She stated. "It'll help, trust me." It appeared that Cass had a done something like this before and it honestly surprised him that she would hand her a bottle of whiskey.

Rather than showing ill manners, Artyom grabbed the bottle and sipped enough not to get himself drunk. After all, the vodka in the Metro was something to handle.

"You were shaking. I had to find a way to help you calm down."

With a bottle of whiskey? Who in their right mind would do that - nope, Bourbon did that before. Nevermind about Cass being the only one crazy.

Artyom glanced at his watch, only to see the time go by a few minutes, but impatience was not something to ignore when he heard Cass speak up. "Sergeant, how long are we going to wait?"

The NCR trooper was quick to reply. "In a couple of minutes." He added. "We've set the explosives for ten minutes."

"Ten minutes, you could have told us about that."

"Don't worry, they should explode soon."

Suddenly, gunfire from the left side caught their attention. The Powder Gangers were firing their guns outside of the perimeter from their towers. In return, green projectiles flew towards the guards. One of the men received a hit, only to transform into a green pile of ash. Now that was terrifying.

"Shit!" The sergeant swore. "I don't know who's shooting."

Curious to know who was responsible for stirring the guards, Artyom felt the need to ask. "Do you think it's one your men?" He wondered.

"Can't be, our boys don't use energy weapons." Lee explained. "The only people who usually use those weapons are scavengers or the Brotherhood of Steel, but why would the Brotherhood be here if there isn't any tech around unless…"

"What?"

"The Powder Gangers must have some tech with them, somehow."

A cry from the criminals was enough to confirm the suspicion of the attacker. "Kill that bitch!" Soon the facility was alive when the alarms were blaring and the Powder Gangers were running into the open. Whoever had attacked the facility was immediately bringing the Powder Gangers out on purpose.

Then the fences exploded. "That's the signal, everyone advance." Sergeant Lee ordered as the NCR troopers began to make their way through the opening. As Cass followed after them, Artyom was about to do the same, but his curiosity got the better of him.

Off to the left, he saw a lone tall figure carrying a gun with a green-like color storm into the transition building with her weapon blasting away at the defenders coming out to meet her. Yet, they fell or diminished into nothing more, but ash. She glanced her head over to him as if she saw him, but her attention was taken away when she continued into the building.

Before he could follow after the stranger, Cass called out to him. "Artyom, what's keeping you back? Let's get in there."

Reminded of what was going on, the stalker pulled out his Bastard gun and followed after the NCR troopers walking into the courtyard.

On the other side of the facility, he saw another explosion occur as more soldiers walked in and opened fire on the criminals in the open. At first, they caught the attention of the Powder Gangers in the courtyard, but gunfire from this end made them realize they were in the crossfire. Sergeant Lee and his men were quick to turn the tables on their side and take cover behind them, but were unaware of the doors opening up to the building on the group's right.

Seven men stepped out of the building with their guns drawn before Cass blasted her shotgun at the first two Powder Gangers. As their comrades fell, Artyom was quick to help secure the flank with bursts of 5.45s. The last man watched his fellows drop, causing him to flee back into the building. Yet, it was no match for Cass as she pulled out a stick of dynamite and tossed the stick into the building. That part of the building exploded into rubble as the inside of the building was revealed to the world.

When Artyom joined the rest of the team, he saw the large group of Powder Gangers flee for the last bastion of safety as the NCR military moved in to eliminate them. Yet, his only concern was the transitional building on the left. As the two NCR teams began to merge into one, a pair of gangers sprinted out of the door from the transitional building and tried to head for the last building. However, a blonde woman in a blue jumpsuit had stepped out and fired an automatic weapon at the fleeing criminals. They didn't survive.

Sergeant Lee spouted orders and pointed at the door. "Prepare to breach the door!" As the troopers made their way towards the last bastion of the criminals, he made his way towards the lone stranger. "Okay, who the fuck are you?" He demanded from her.

"So she was the one responsible for that." Cass commented. "Not everyday do you see someone like her ruin the NCR's day in military operations."

The blonde expressed a smile towards the sergeant. "No need to get all hostile on me." She stated. "Turns out these pricks were harassing the good people of Goodsprings and I thought it was about time I gave them a kick in the head."

Despite the stranger's response, Sergeant Lee displayed his irritation. "You alerted the Powder Gangers, you should be lucky that I'm not going to kill you."

"Don't worry, I'll help you take care of them."

The two departed without any words as the group made their way towards the doors. "Get ready for the worst of it all, they probably have their guns trained on this door. It will be bloody and some of us might die - what the fuck is that?"

Everyone glared at Artyom as he pulled out his bullet lighter and his room-clearing weapon. "This?" He pointed at a weapon from his inventory. "This is a grenade."

"That doesn't look like a grenade." Stated Cass. "Are you sure it is?"

The stranger scoffed at everyone's skepticism. "Okay, what the hell is wrong with you guys? Didn't you all forget your grenades except this guy?" No comment. "Now this is embarrassing."

Sergeant Lee was quick to speak. "We weren't supplied like everyone else in the Mojave, unless you're McCarren."

"Still, it's sad that none of you don't have grenades." She glanced over to the stalker. "So? How many do you have?"

Technically, Artyom had twenty-one grenades… that is if he counted his incendiaries and the sticky grenades. If he counted his actual grenades, it would have to be- "Seven." He answered.

"That should be enough. Alright, make room for the kid."

As the stalker made his way to the front and towards the door, he peeked through the small hinges off the door and saw dozens of Powder Gangers scramble forth to a small area behind bars. They were ready for him, but they appeared to recognize him as he slightly opened the door. Automatic fire flew at him as he lit the wires off his grenades and threw them into the building.

A cry came out from the inside. "Everyone get back-" The cry was silenced by the explosion as shrapnel flew all over the place. Artyom was quick to close the door while he heard the shards picking at the door and scratching the concrete walls without hesitation.

When the flying shrapnel was finished, Artyom peeked through the doorway and saw bodies of Powder Gangers lay upon one-another. The damage had only caused a few to limp away from door while others were crawling on the ground, moaning.

"Is it clear?" Sergeant Lee asked.

The stalker glanced towards the soldier and gave him a short curt nod. "It's done."

The door flew open as the soldiers stormed the building with their rifles while Artyom, Cass, and the stranger were the last to walk in. Sounds of shots echoed throughout the building, but as they explored their corners no one was spared. Artyom found himself witnessing criminals crying for mercy, only to be ignored by a barrel pressed on their heads. Those who tried to resist were quickly dispatched before the NCR moved up to the second floor. "Go, go, go!" Sergeant Lee shouted as his men scrambled to the top.

A tap on his shoulder caught Artyom's attention, only to meet with the stranger's eyes. "Hey, do you know a guy named Doc Mitchell?" She asked.

Of course, it was the man who rescued him from the bullet. "Yes, he saved my life."

"Good to meet you, I'm Angelique Duval. I was the gal who was also shot in the head." She began. Before she could speak, more gunfire erupted on the second floor as battle cries echoed between the NCR and the Powder Gangers. "We should probably help them out first then talk about how we both had a bullet to the head."

"Gee, you haven't figured." Cass commented before she walked up the staircase with her shotgun in hand.

"What's your problem?"

The cowgirl didn't answer as Artyom began to follow after his companion up the stairs. "Sheesh, someone doesn't like me already."

When Artyom and Cass arrived at the second floor, a soldier's body lay there on the floor with blood seeping out. The first casualty of the firefight. They looked around, passing through the soldiers and finding more bodies full of Powder Gangers, who attempted to make a last stand. This place was no longer their stronghold anymore and it would be a matter of time before this place would be running back under the NCR's law.

Sergeant Lee inspected the bodies of the few fallen individuals and walked to the stalker with his weapon in hand. "You know, if it wasn't for you, I would have doubted we would have lasted a few minutes without losing more men than I expected." He handed his hand out to the young man. "You have my thanks."

Artyom shook his hand before glancing back at the body of fallen trooper.

"Poor guy, he just got here a week ago. The NCR will be shipping his body back to his family where they can bury him."

"I'm sorry that I wasn't up here with you guys." He answered. "I could have prevented his death."

Lee shook his head. "You can't save everyone, it's something I've learned at the Battle of Hoover Dam. You'll just have to cope with death." Then he nodded his head. "Without you, the other guys would be dead thanks to you and your grenades."

"Will you be getting any of your supplies soon?"

"Us?" He wondered. "I highly doubt it. My platoon is low priority to the people in McCarren, Hoover Dam, and Forlorn Hope. Those people need it more than some backwater unit patrolling the wasteland."

Cass began to pick up one of the weapons off the ground as she scavenged the dead from their ammunition.

"Seeing that you scavs helped us out, I think you deserve to have at the place before the NCR retakes this place."

"What do you know?" His companion spoke. "We get to pick the prison apart. Let's hurry before the other scavengers notice it." Cass was quick to go in the spoils of war while the rest of the NCR troopers departed downstairs except for one of the men.

The trooper carried his body as he noticed Artyom looking at his weapon. "You can have his gun, my friend won't be needing it anymore." He said before he walked down the staircase and went out of sight.

It was clear that the man was sad, but was pragmatic enough to allow a stalker the right to claim such a weapon. Rather than letting such a weapon be wasted at the lack of use, Artyom stepped forward and claimed this weapon as his own. When he pulled the weapon off the ground, he saw his Pip-Boy's spring to life with another weapon added under the designation 'Service Rifle'. It used the 5.56mm caliber, but there were few bullets in the magazine to be useful. Perhaps it could act as his marksman rifle later on?

Then he found Angelique walk up the staircase with dozens of guns in her backpack. "I see you and your friend are cleaning this place dry. Guess we all have something in common."

"Are you here to talk with me about what happened to us?"

She nodded her head. "Yeah, I wanted to know why the guy decided to shoot you?"

"I was at the wrong place at the wrong time." He admitted. "Moments ago, I was in Moscow and then I'm in America. It's a simple explanation."

Angelique raised her eyebrows. "You're from Russia, I find that hard to believe. Are you on chems?"

"No, not at all."

"I don't believe you."

"Ask the doctor. He can vouch for me."

"It doesn't make any logical sense."

"Where I'm from, logic and sense don't usually go in the same order."

The conversation was interrupted by Cass as she walked out from one of the rooms. "Artyom is in fact from Russia. I know this, because back at the Mojave Outpost I met a couple of guys like him. They have accents just like him."

The woman still remained skeptical. "Still don't see how you managed to get into the Mojave. Doesn't matter, I wanted to know why my killer decided to shoot you as well."

"Like I said, wrong place at the wrong time. The guy didn't look like he wanted witnesses either." Artyom suggested. "I can't wait to kill the guy once I get the opportunity."

"You and me both. The guy ambushed me and takes my package in the middle of the night, I think he deserves a bullet. What about you?"

"Me? He stole my AK, I'm going to get it back from his cold dead hands."

Cass joined the duo and looked at him with wonder. "Wait a minute, you're going after the guy who tried to kill both of you?"

"Yep." Angelique answered. "Weren't you listening?"

"Not really, just taking the opportunity to see if the gangers drank whiskey." Then she walked beside Artyom. "Hold these bottles, I wanted to see if you can carry them."

"Cass, what are you-" Artyom never got the chance to finish when the cowgirl gave him a dozen bottles of whiskey and a number of guns to carry. "Cass?"

"I'm trying to see if we can carry the whiskey and the guns. Would be a waste to leave some of them behind." She explained. "Can you see your Pip-Boy?"

The stalker glanced down at the device on his hands, only to see the guns add on to his list of weapons, but he also saw the weight and the maximum weight limit in pounds. It wasn't as bad as he thought when the numbers were added together. "Yes and it seems like I won't be having problems carrying them."

"Good, I can drink happy tonight."

"You know, I can help you lose all that weight in one way." Angelique suggested.

"Really?" Cass wondered. "How so?"

"I can teach both of you how to repair your guns and save you the trouble of carrying double. It's how I made caps in the wasteland and it might be useful to both of you."

How to repair guns in the post-apocalypse? That could be useful. Yet, it also made him wonder. Did these people have trouble maintaining their weapons."

"How about tonight? I'm not in the mood of sleeping outside."

Sleep here? Now? "Cass, why shouldn't we leave this place?"

"Nightstalkers. They hunt at night and I don't want to take that risk since they're that dangerous." The cowgirl explained. "Now get a quick lesson from our - what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a courier." Angelique replied.

"Get a quick lesson from our courier so we can sleep with some easy caps on us." Then she pulled a bottle out from Artyom's arms. "Whiskey?"

"Guns, whiskey, and company? Having fun where we killed people? What could go wrong?"

* * *

Sherif Meyers walked out of the town as he had coffee with some of the troopers, giving them a warm smile and in return, theirs. Despite this nice gesture, he noticed the camp stirring with talk.

Then he overheard one of the men at a table on the right. "Hey, did you hear what happened at the NCR CF?"

"Yeah, didn't the Powder Gangers get wiped out by Sergeant Lee's squad?"

"Not that story, the other story?"

"No." The trooper answered. "Never heard of it."

"Well, Lee's squad came back to see if anymore Powder Gangers came back, but it turns out he stumbled upon three scavengers enjoying themselves. Guy got lucky with two gals."

There were many stories the sheriff had heard in the NCR CF, but this topped it off.

* * *

Author's Note: Originally, I wanted the Courier to be a cripple, but after reading another fic I had some ideas about her. Also, it has been a long time since I've made this many words in a chapter.


	10. Chapter 10: Storms of Change

The stalker found himself in his mind, but unlike his previous encounter with the Dark One this was different. He found himself standing upon a tower, overlooking the world below. As he looked around, the young man found himself peering over the edge and saw a great fire burn throughout the surface. "What the hell?" Artyom wondered to himself.

He was surprised by the appearance of a Dark One standing beside him. Yet, it didn't focus on him. 'We prevented this.' The creature replied.

"What am I looking at?"

'Our potential destruction.' It answered.

Artyom glanced to the Dark One and tightened his grip into a fist. "So that is why you put me here, to remove me from destroying your kind."

'Yes, but for the good of your home.'

"My people suffered!" He shouted at it. "What good did that do?"

It only turned its head towards the young man. 'When the time is right… you will know.'

This gained his interest. "Why are you doing this? Why am I here?"

'The fate of the Metro is intertwined with Mojave Wasteland and there is a threat which we cannot take on alone.' The Dark One continued. 'Once it has been revealed to you, we will need your help.'

"Why should I help you?" Artyom questioned.

The Dark One lowered its head before it walked towards the stalker and placed its hand on his forehead. 'You have forgotten.'

Shifted away from the tower, Artyom found himself standing on the surface without the smell of chemicals entering his lungs. As he looked around, he recognized the familiar sight that he once saw long ago. "Where am I?"

The Dark One stood beside him. 'A long time ago, you were young and alone.'

They were standing outside the remains of a Metro entrance, where people once walked into the Metro for transportation. Yet, he saw three foolish boys walk into the open just for sightseeing. How could he forget? This was his first time he saw the world after he joined into the depths of the darkness. Among them was Eugene and Vitaly, but also himself. "Why are you showing me this?"

'You forgotten a memory of someone you miss.'

A group of watchmen appeared from the wreckage of man's folly, only to make their way towards their small prey. His two friends fled from the sight of the monsters of the apocalypse while Artyom remained frozen in place as they descended upon them. However, they were caught off-guard when a Dark One appeared before the terrified boy. At the simple presence of its hands, the watchmen writhed in pain before the protector while the survivors fled from its terrible power. Then the boy found itself under its shadow.

'You were a babe at the mercy of the wolves.' It explained. 'Such a life did not need to be cut short.' The Dark One brought its hand out to Artyom and began to bring an influence on the young man.

Memories of his early life in the Metro flowed through his thoughts as he recalled the images of his mother caring for him. Then there was one out of many that was iconic, the last memory before the bombs fell. Tears flowed from his eyes as he recalled his walks in the Botanical Gardens just to get ice cream. A cold treat which he will never taste ever again. "Why are you showing me this?"

'To make sure you never forget.'

Artyom's mother turned around just to see the young boy, but now he understood what was going on. He forgotten the face of his own mother, but here he was with the memory of her and taking in each detail of his mother. He should have felt sadness. Instead, he felt relief that he could see her once more after her death. "Mother…"

'I must stop, but you have a few more moments.' The Dark One commented. 'Be ready.'

A few more seconds were taken in as the stalker accepted the sight of his mother disappearing from his mind. Yet, Artyom kept the memory of his mother's face at heart. "My mother, I forgotten the face of my mother. Why did you show me that? Why do it for me?"

There was a moment of silence from the Dark One as it confronted him with a long stare. 'You deserve to know. You are part of us - a family member.' The creature stated before it disappeared from Artyom's presence. Then the mind conversation with the creature of the post-apocalypse began to end.

The young man's eyes opened, only to wake up to the words of Cass talking. "We will not be doing anything like that ever again." She began. "Bitch stole our guns."

As Artyom looked around and found his two companions walking around with discarded gun parts on the floor. "What happened he asked?"

"We got drunk… and Angelique ran off with our all of our guns."

The stalker facepalmed at the revelation. So it was her way to run off with their salvage and get away.

"I knew that there was something wrong with that bitch!" Cass continued. "She seemed too trusting from the beginning." Then she stormed off into another room as she growled in anger and he couldn't blame her.

As he rose from the ground, Artyom felt a weird strange feeling on his left arm and began to see what had happened. His eyes were shocked when his Pip-Boy was not where it was. Thankfully, his watch was still on his wrist, but the removal of the Pip-Boy suggested that she also ran off with it as well. That fucking thief.

After rose from the floor, he grabbed his backpack and began to ready himself to leave the prison in disappointment. All of that work in salvaging those weapons was all for naught and it didn't make him feel good. Yet, the young man noticed something strange about his bag. It was heavier than he remembered last time. Rather than shrug it off, the young man was quick to look into his backpack, only to feel the jingle of bottlecaps in small pouches. Where did he get all of this money from? Amongst one of the pouches, Artyom saw a note addressing him.

 _Hey,_

 _about running off with all of your guns and that Pip-Boy of yours. Before both of you agree to hunt me down, I decided to keep twenty-five percent of the caps to myself while the rest are yours. The additional amount is to compensate for the Pip-Boy and I hope you won't hate me for it._

 _Angelique Duval, the Courier_

 _P.S. The guy who shot us might have taken the road south of Primm just to slingshot north back to New Vegas. My best bet is that he went through Nipton. Meet me in Novac, we might have something there._

Once he knew where their missing friend, Artyom was quick to call out to his companion. "Cass, apparently Angelique left us a gift."

The cowgirl walked out of the room immediately. "Gift? That bitch left us-" She was never able to complete her sentence when he started to jingle the pouches of bottlecaps. "What the hell?"

"It looked like it was supposed to be two-thirds for us, but she also gave a little extra for taking my Pip-Boy."

She shook her head in disbelief. "I can't believe I didn't check your bag. What are we going to do from now on?"

"I don't know, maybe spend it on getting something." Artyom replied. "Perhaps I could spend these caps for finding information about the man who shot me."

"You know, there is a possibility he might have left a trail at Nipton. Why don't we start heading there and see what we can do?"

* * *

When they arrived at Nipton, Artyom noticed something strange about this place. Fires were burning from piled up tires while a banner of a bull was standing tall and firm in the ground. He didn't know what he was seeing, but he felt a gut-wrenching feeling inside. Whatever fate had befallen this place, it was not a good omen. Then he heard Cass speak up. "That symbol - Caesar's Legion was here."

He glanced over to his companion. "Do you think they did something here?"

"Definitely. They didn't come here to occupy the place, if they did they wouldn't be razing it to the ground."

"I don't like this one bit."

"Me too." Cass replied.

As they slowly crept into the town of Nipton, the duo turned their eyes to the left and found a grim sight set before them. There were skeletons of people nailed on the cross with a fire placed underneath. Whoever was the poor soul did not meet a merciful end. Yet, there were more crosses in the streets, but were empty. The town hall was not spared the sight as dead men were hanging from the lampposts.

"Shit. I don't know what happened here, but it seemed like someone caught the Legion in the act and strung them up there. I don't know why, but it's creepy."

There was one way for Artyom to comment on it. "I guess the people of Legion deserved it if they were going to be hanged for attacking the town."

"Strange, the Legion doesn't leave crosses behind unless they have bodies to put on the crosses." Cass noted. He had to admit, she was an expert in talking about this. "Either the guys who rescued the town found survivors and took them off the crosses or the Legion never had a chance to catch the people."

"What do you think will happen to the town?"

"I don't know. I haven't met too many people who are willing to live under Caesar unless they want good trade without raiders or enjoy being superior than women. This place might be abandoned for a very long time."

A surprise caught the duo off-guard. "You got that right."

Artyom reached for his Duplet and turned around, only to find a familiar face standing before him. "Ranger Ghost, what are you doing here?"

"Yeah, its me." The albino-haired Ranger replied. "Jackson gave me the go to check out Nipton since there have been radio reports from other stations about an incursion east. I didn't know the Legion would be this far from the river."

"Did you have anyone close here?"

Ghost shook her head. "No. I don't give a shit about the people of this town, but I was sticking around whether those two stalkers were leaving or not."

"Wait - those guys?" Cass questioned. "How can you be so sure that they killed these guys. The Legion are no pushovers."

"Neither are they. Those two nutcases managed to kill a patrol by the Legion and rescue anyone who could be saved. Apparently, the Legion was trying to state a message to the NCR through those two. I guess they didn't like courier work."

The cowgirl chuckled before bringing the conversation further. "What will you do from now on?"

"Major Knight told me that command is interested in these stalkers and I'm here to accompany them, but I just so happen to be a bit late to joining their group." The Ranger explained. "I could go alone, but if the Legion got this far I'm not taking the risk."

"Do you know where they're going?" Artyom asked.

"They're probably bypassing Outpost Charlie on their way to Novac. Now they could use the road, but there is a chance they'll be harassed by the Legion."

"Novac? Cass and I are just about to head there as well. If you need any company, you could join us."

Ghost nodded at the thought. "Since I haven't talked with the guys from Charlie, I'll accept. That is if you don't mind me."

Cass scoffed at her. "We won't."

"Let me check some things out with the mayor's office and we'll get going in a second."

* * *

Attacks on Exhibition continued to increase, more frequently than the Dark Ones' assaults. In fact, the presence of the Dark Ones didn't even occur to Sukhoi as he thought about it. This new enemy that threatened his home was not something to disregard either.

These men, this Legion, they were pressing their attacks despite the stiff resistance against the invaders from the north. Thankfully, the additional men from Riga was enough to fight in this war of attrition, but Sukhoi hated thinking about it. The Legion was becoming merciless in their attacks and he didn't like the thought of these savages breaking through and going after the people.

Thankfully, Riga was willing to take in refugees into their station despite their population problems. The only problem with this solution was the military-grade rounds. People needed this money to settle in or at the very least, buy some supplies before they leave for another independent station.

The leader of Exhibition decided to massage his forehead while he observed the map of the northern tunnel. Most of these tunnels were destroyed by demolitions because of the previous engagements against the Dark Ones, leaving only the main northern tunnel open. Although it was easier knowing where the Legion would come from, this funnel brought so many soldiers against his men, entire firefights would break out from the simple glimpse of red American football equipment.

Despite all of these problems and the stress he faced, Sukhoi understood he needed to hold the line for Polis and the rest of the Metro react to this incursion into the tunnels. His men weren't soldiers, but mere militia to stave off the mutants within the tunnels.

An old man, armed with a Bastard gun, ran into his tent while bells rang outside. "Sukhoi, we need you at the front!" He shouted. "Another attack is coming and they're coming in force."

Once more to hold the line. Sukhoi grabbed his modified Russian rifle lying on the table before him as he made his way towards the tent's flaps. "Assemble the men." The leader of the station garnered the attention of every able-bodied soldier in the militia to join him into the front as gunfire and explosions erupted from the northern outpost.

When enough men continued to gather behind him, the weary station leader started running towards the barricade as he immediately joined the ramparts alongside his men. From the sandbags and wooden walls covered in metal sheets, he saw dozens of Legionnaires running towards the defenses, firing their guns or charging towards the Metro defenders with blades and hammers.

It was a surreal sight to see. A long time ago, mankind fought one-another with the most modern weapons on the battlefield. Twenty years later, he was seeing the remains of mankind fighting against devolved savages using spears and swords.

More soldiers of the Legion charged forth, but these were far different than the ones has seen. Unlike the others Sukhoi had seen, these were far more armored with additional decorations. However, there was one flaw he noticed in their uniforms. "Shoot the legs!" Sukhoi ordered before joining the defense with his weapon.

Members of the Legion exposed in the open fell as their shins succumbed to the dirty bullets of the Metro. Yet, it wasn't enough to hold these armored Legionnaires back. In fact, they displayed their wounds without remorse while continuing their advance. When they reached the barricade, the defenders watched in horror as they climbed up the ramparts unfazed by the deaths of their comrades. Those that tried to confront them were cut down by gunfire from the enemy covering the climbers.

Sukhoi brought his gun to bear and swept the entire barricade with his finger on the trigger as he watched the climbers fall to their doom. Those unlucky enough to fall had landed on the wooden or metal spikes. Good, they weren't invincible. A smile fell on his face as he replaced his empty magazine for a fresh one.

That moment of relief was immediately changed when a warhead shrieked from the dark depths of the tunnel and into the barricade. Sukhoi was thrown off his feet, only to land on the hard concrete ground. The militia fell into disorganization as the leader of Exhibition rose from the floor, only to see the hole in the defenses. His greatest fear was realized.

"Retribution!" The Legion cried from the other side as a battle cry roared towards the opening.

"Get up, everyone get up!" Sukhoi shouted. "Evacuate the station, we can't hold them!"

* * *

Author's Note: Apologies for the wait, but I was busy playing _S.T.A.L.K.E.R_ on my own time.

* * *

 **LanzCorporalAssWipe** : Ah, I almost forgot about her. Thankfully, I didn't fall for that trick my first time.

 **Blaze1992** : Why am I not showing the scenes? I'm crossposting this on several sites and I have to adhere to their rules. Going into the details would get me one hell of a ban. Aside from that, I'm bad at writing them.


	11. Chapter 11: The Battle of the North

No one had any time to grab their belongings and most of the railcars were used by the civilians while the militia had to resort to their delaying their enemy while giving enough time for the civilians to escape through Riga and meet with Hanza at Prospekt Mira. That is if Hanza allowed them into the station.

Sukhoi organized the men to hold the main tunnel into Riga as the demolitions experts prepared the tunnels for destruction. He began to reload a fresh magazine into his weapon as the remaining survivors were moving north once more, not to retake their home, but to prevent others from losing it. Nothing good was going to come out of this, the people of Exhibition had become refugees within the Metro.

The Dark Ones and now this? How long would it be until the people of Exhibition and the former survivors of Timiryazevskaya find a place to settle down once more? Too many people died from this terrible turn of events. Hunter, his friend from the Polis Rangers, was most likely dead when he left to fight the Dark Ones in the Northern Tunnels. The worst thought of all that had occurred to him was the disappearance of his adoptive son - Artyom. Ever since his presence was gone, Sukhoi continued to wonder about her whereabouts. The thought of his stepson coming home, only to know that his people left was concerning at the very least.

Of everything he had endured, he almost wanted to cry… almost. However, he knew that he had to keep face for his soldiers. He walked from one side of the tunnel and across the tracks while his men reinforced the one-way tunnel up north.

A man walked up to him, with a smile on his face. "Sukhoi, I got some good news!"

He paused in his tracks and looked up from the ground. "Petr, what's the news?"

"Bourbon, he's back with some help."

It had been some time since Bourbon left Exhibition for Polis. How he was able to circumnavigate around the Hanza stations was a question he wouldn't want to ask. If Bourbon returned there better be something worthy to bring.

Bright flashlights lit up the tunnel from the south as a figure walked past the messenger with a smile. "Sukhoi, I think we arrived just in time." The stalker stated. "What's going on? Why aren't you at Exhibition?"

The sight of Bourbon was relieving, but it was already too late. "The station was overrunned. The enemy is consolidating their territory in Exhibition, but we've managed to get out in time for the civilians to leave. However, we don't want to take the risk of letting them into the rest of the Metro."

"Shit. I was hoping the Polis Rangers would be enough."

He brought more Polis Rangers here? "How did you convince Polis to send more men?"

The lights behind Bourbon came closer as the leader recognized the famous uniforms of the Polis Rangers of the Spartan Council. "I can answer that question." One of the Rangers stated as he lifted his visor above his face. "What Bourbon brought was enough to bring a couple of Rangers to help, but I guess we are too late."

Bourbon took a step aside and gestured his hand towards the Ranger. "Meet Colonel Miller. He is the head of the Rangers."

Sukhoi nodded his head in his presence. "It's quite an honor to meet you, sir."

"Likewise." Colonel Miller replied. "What you are doing is something I would have done as well. However, I do have a few questions for you since I have very little knowledge of what I'm up against. How many men does this enemy have at Exhibition?"

"I don't know. I counted about three to four dozen men assaulting us during the first wave."

"Damn it, I was hoping we could charge forward and take it back, but I guess your militia isn't equipped to fight an all-out battle against the invaders."

"No sir. We're only equipped to fight off mutants."

Miller acknowledged the militia's restraints with a nod. "Then we'll have to blow up the tunnel and prevent them from penetrating deeper into the Metro." He glanced over his shoulder and shouted to his fellow soldiers. "Vladimir, help these people with the explosives."

"Yes sir." One of the men said as he departed from the group and joined the demolition team.

"Now then, do we have any clue about our enemy catching us off by surprise?"

Sukhoi nodded his head. "I do have a token force further north to delay the enemy and allow the demolitions enough time to hold them off."

"Good. If things go according to plan, the people who attacked us might not be able to last long being cut off from the rest of the world."

Gunfire echoed from the north and Sukhoi was afraid. "Damn, that's my men."

"Okay then. Danila, Bourbon, I need you to get a few men to form a fallback. Can you both do that?" Miller ordered.

"Yes sir." The stalker and the Ranger said in unison.

"Let's move. The enemy does not rest."

When the group began moving north, the gunfire grew closer before the battle cries turned into agonizing screams. As they passed by the wounded being brought from the front, Sukhoi saw a hopeful look from the men at the sight of their reinforcements. Morale was bad enough, but seeing Rangers come to their aid was enough to give them some hope in the fight.

Once they arrived, the Rangers took positions behind the sandbags and wooden palisade while someone manning the machine gun fired away. Sukhoi watched the tracers fly into the dark tunnel, only to see the silhouettes of men flying towards them. "Open fire!" Colonel Miller shouted before the firing line unleashed a hailstorm of dirty ammunition downrange.

Bodies of red-colored soldiers fell upon one-another with spears and sledge hammers in hand. Despite the primitive weaponry, glimpses of enemies with firearms were sighted behind their melee brothers.

One of the Rangers noted their appearance. "What the fuck? They look like Romans."

Sukhoi sprayed his carbine downrange as the bodies continued to stumble upon the tracks. Yet, the enemy was able to get shots off on the defenders. The machine gunner fell from his post as the leader called for a medic.

Colonel Miller ordered one of his men to man the machine gun. "Stephan, man the DShK. We need suppressive fire!" Without question, the Ranger manned the gun and began to fire bursts of 12.7mm rounds downrange. Even the armored enemies were no match for armor-piercing rounds. Bullets peppered the wooden palisade and the sandbags, but the small slits the defenders used were enough to ensure their safety.

"It would be nice if we had, grenade launchers." Another Ranger commented.

Then the machine gun fell silent. "Stephan, what's going on?"

Sukhoi watched as he replaced the ammo box and began to look around. "I'm out. Shit!"

When the former leader of Exhibition turned away from the gunner, he saw a large wave of people sprinting towards the palisade. "Brace yourselves, they're about to charge us."

"Fix bayonets!" Miller shouted before he switched his weapon out for a shotgun.

Bodies smashed into the palisade as the attackers shoved spears through the vision slits. Yet, it did little to help when Sukhoi slipped the barrel through and held down the trigger. The enemies cried out in agony before the defenders held them off with their automatics. His ears couldn't hear beyond the loud blasts of Miller's shotgun blasting into the crowd. Some of the enemies tried to climb over their living brethren, but the Rangers gunned them down and spilled blood with their bayonets.

When the carbine was empty, Sukhoi pulled his weapon out of the vision slit, only to be grabbed forth by a strong hand. "Die profligate!" A hand-held chainsaw began to come into the vision slits in an attempt to reach out for him. Sukhoi fought back with every inch of his body, but he pulled out his knife and stabbed at the hand pulling him to his death.

The person he wounded departed from keeping him back while Sukhoi stepped back and reloaded his carbine.

Then Miller shouted. "Got a call from Vladimir, fall back!"

Then Stephan departed from the machine gun with his shotgun blasting away at the enemy. "Miller, Boris, I'll cover the rear."

Realizing that they were falling back, Sukhoi needed to warn the others. "Fall back!" He shouted. "Fall back!"

The delay tactic worked. The enemy was held up by the palisade and there was nothing to hold they could do to get past them. As Sukhoi waited until the last man was falling back, he watched the Rangers slowly retreat from their posts with their guns still firing. Nothing was going to get past them and he was sure of it.

The tunnel flooded with dozens of men running past the placed explosives while Bourbon calmly hurried the defenders to flee from the north as the volume of gunfire echoed louder from the rear. They had gotten past the palisade, it was only a matter of time until they would chase them towards Riga and they were not prepared for a full-scale invasion.

Sukhoi looked over his shoulder, only to see the Rangers follow after him as they occasionally shot back at their assailants. They would be denied that opportunity when he saw Petr hold a detonator in hand, waiting for the stragglers to get past them. "Sukhoi, hurry up!"

Once the station leader joined his familiar companion, he knelt beside him with his carbine out. Amongst the Rangers falling back, he saw one of the Rangers get struck in the leg on his way back. Bourbon was the last one amongst their group, but he stopped to carry the man over his shoulder. "Don't blow it up." Sukhoi ordered as he saw his men form a final stand behind another line of sandbags supported by sheets of metal and shields.

If the enemy broke through this fallback, the Metro would be at their mercy. He could order Petr to detonate the explosives, but Bourbon and the Ranger would be caught up in the danger zone. No, he would not let that happen. They had to survive.

"Cover them!" He raised his carbine and fired away at the Roman-like soldiers trying to descend upon Bourbon like a pack of wolves at a limping deer. Those that had firearms had missed their shots. It was luck that Bourbon wasn't dead, but it was short-lived when automatic gunfire was flying after them. A few more minutes and they would be dead.

As if fate had a strange sense of humor, Sukhoi saw a sight he did not expect to see. The enemy stopped firing, only to be caught by surprise of a tall dark figure standing amidst their ranks. A Dark One was here, but it paid its full attention on the invaders. It quickly sprung its hands out in a blink of an eye at the soldiers, causing them to succumb to their powers and writhe across the tracks. This was the power of a Dark One.

More Dark Ones appeared alongside their lone kin, directing their hands towards their victims and breaking their minds within seconds. Whoever confronted them was turned into a babbling mess with little remains of their warrior bravado.

When Bourbon brought the wounded Ranger back into the fold, Colonel Miller spoke of his relief. "Stephan, see to Danila's wounds." Then he stood beside the station commander with his full attention on the mutants standing on the other side of the placed explosives. "What are those things?"

Sukhoi knew better than to leave the colonel in the dark. "Those creatures are the Dark Ones. They were the reason why Hunter didn't return."

"Damn. They killed them without a blink of an eye. Why aren't they attacking us?"

"I don't know, but I hope we don't give them that chance."

The Dark Ones turned their full attention on the remaining defenders, but they did not take a step forward. Instead, they waved their hands towards the humans before walking to the north - where the enemy came from. As much as Sukhoi wanted to know why they didn't continue any further, he still had a duty to the Metro.

"Petr, do it."

The demolitions expert nodded his head and twisted the detonator. A great explosion erupted throughout the targeted zone with the tunnel succumbing to its structural weakness. The clouds of debris flew towards the men as they coughed and covered their mouths instinctively. The deed was done, the tunnel from Exhibition was now cut off from the rest of the Metro.

When the clouds disappeared and the soldiers of Exhibition made a slow trek towards Riga, Sukhoi was confronted by Colonel Miller. "What did was necessary for the safety of the Metro?" The soldier stated. "I'm sorry about what was left behind."

"No need." He replied. "Like you said, it was necessary."

"Thanks to your efforts here, I'll have to notify the Council about the external threat of the Metro. This is not something they can ignore."

Curious, Sukhoi decided to ask a question. "What can the Council do? Isn't blocking off the tunnel from Exhibition good enough?"

"While it may seem so, reports from other parts of the Metro have been received by Polis and they always mention the sighting of Roman-like soldiers. The people who attacked us just happened to be the largest external incursion into the Metro." Miller replied. "This needs to be brought to everyone's attention."

Bourbon interrupted the conversation. "Interesting, but there is one question I would like to ask."

"What would that be?"

"Just who exactly are we up against? I know that they all resemble something Roman, but no one in the Metro has any sense to take that kind of risk."

Then Sukhoi recalled a single moment when Exhibition took prisoners from the first assault on Exhibition. "Don't worry about that. I think we can extract some information from one of our prisoners that is currently in Riga."

That enough had brought Miller's attention. "A prisoner? Lead me to him, Sukhoi. We need to know what we're up against and just so we don't have to worry about making names up for our nameless enemy."

Soon, the weary remains of Exhibition's home guard walked south and began to make their way towards the nearest establishment.

* * *

Author's Note: Originally, I was supposed to have a section with Artyom and the others included, but it didn't feel like it should be there.

* * *

 **LanzCorporalAssWipe** : The Courier only took the guns Artyom was going to sell since they spent the night improving the guns value.

 **Blaze1992** : Didn't you read? I'm crossposting chapters on several sites. Unlike this site, Spacebattles and Sufficient Velocity actually _enforce their rules_ and any NSFW (Not Safe For Work) content is looked down by the moderators and the arbiters. At best, I'll get an infraction. At worst, a ban from posting from my own story thread.

Besides, Artyom, Cass, and the Courier didn't have sex in that scene. I just insinuated the idea that they did.


	12. Chapter 12: Enemy Territory

Caution of danger made Artyom's travel to Novac slow. With Ranger Ghost being the only person with a gun, they were vulnerable targets for raiders to take advantage of. After all, once they smelled the wealth that was in his backpack, it would be a short engagement just by numbers alone. Ever since Angelique confiscated Cass and his weapons from their hands, the only weapon he had to defend himself was his trench knife and throwing knives. While they were good at what they did, it could do so much against armed opponents with firearms.

The trio continued their path on a road caught between two heights. Ghost noted the feature of the land. "This place, I don't like it." She said, with a degree of caution in her voice. "If someone decided to ambush us, they would shoot from up there. It's what I would do."

Artyom knew better than to question the knowledge of an NCR Ranger, but Cass spoke of it. "I doubt that the raiders would try to attack us." She said. "We could smell them a mile away."

The Ranger laughed at the prospect. "You're not wrong there. They're not known for smelling too good." Then the young man found himself at the center of attention. "I bet you Russian guys don't have to worry about bandits in those tunnels of yours."

As much as he would like to assure her such didn't exist in the Metro, experience told him better. "We do have bandits." The stalker answered. "Occasionally, groups like Hanza pay for some of their heavily armed guards to hunt them out and kill them all, but they always leave a few groups behind."

"Why leave the rest behind? Isn't it their duty to protect travel for caravans?"

"Hunting bandits is a good business and Hanza is stingy with money. They'll keep doing that as long as the profits benefit them in the long run."

"Damn," Cass commented. "I thought the NCR has its problems, but that is just bad."

"Welcome to the Metro." Artyom replied. "However, I think Hanza is far better than what the Nazis and the Communists do from what I've heard."

"I've heard of Communists before from talking with a few guys from the Followers, never knew who they were, but they were considered evil people in the pre-war days."

"I only know through rumors, but the Communists like to spread the idea that the Metro is equal for all. There is no rich people in their ranks, but neither are there poor people as well. While it sounds good to many people, I've stories of the secret police going to people's homes and making them disappear for criticizing them. Thankfully, I live in the far stations and they keep themselves busy fighting the Nazis."

"The Nazis?" Ghost wondered. "I've heard of them through some stalker people, but I don't know a damn thing about them."

Cass was quick to help the Ranger. "Based on what Artyom says, they're worst than the Legion."

"Worst than the Legion?" She scoffed at the idea. "The Legion is known for many things, what do the Nazis have that beat the Legion in pure cruelty?"

"I've heard stories that they use prisoners as target practice for recruits." Artyom answered. "I can't say that I've met one, but hope I'll never do."

"So why do they fight the Communists?"

"Based on the stories of some others, ideology. My stepfather once said that you can't put a Communist and a Nazi in a same room without coming back to find them trying to choke each other."

"Shit, those guys are not people I'm looking forward to."

He shared the woman's view, he wouldn't want to meet them as well. Once the road made the trio escape from the small pass they went through, Artyom saw bodies of the dead on the road with a whiff of rotten flesh. It made him desire to put on his gasmask, but to lose face in front of the women was not something he could ignore.

"Hold up, let me check the bodies." Ordered Ghost as she made her way towards the first body lying underneath the sun. "These guys don't look like prospectors, more like raiders."

"How can you be so sure?" Cass wondered.

"Hair styles. Raiders are known for that, especially the women." The Ranger inspected a body of a man wearing plated armor before she turned him over. "These were quick clean shots. I guess they stumbled with someone they couldn't kill."

Artyom and Cass were quick to join her. The sight of a sub-machine gun caught his attention as he took hold of it and began checking the man's pockets. There had to be ammo around. "Cass, help me scavenge some of these guys." He said, feeling bullets in the dead man's pockets.

Relieved that they were able to discover weapons, Cass was quick to join him. "Damn, it's good to finally not worry about our own safety." She replied.

"You two better hurry." Ghost commented. "If the Legion was able to hit Nipton, they probably have a base of operations somewhere."

* * *

The trio had set up a campfire with a tire and some wood found by the raiders. It was crude way to live, but none of them complained. Artyom pulled out his journal and wrote his thoughts away with bits of squirrel meat in his mouth. Moments when he needed to pause from writing, he saw Ghost cleaning out her rifle while Cass drank away with bottles of whiskey in her arms.

Cass seemed happy with herself with all of that alcohol; however, Bourbon taught him that it was a sign of someone forgetting their past. Perhaps she had something that made her not think about her life. As for Ghost, her skin tone was strangely too white to be natural. He heard from doctors that it was a mutation that plagued people long before the bombs fell. Although he was curious, it wouldn't be appropriate to ask.

Soon, the Ranger began to lay down with her rifle in hand. "Artyom, can be on watch duty?" She asked.

"Yes." He answered without question. Soon the woman turned over on her mattress and slept. "See you in the morning." Afterwards, he went back to writing his thoughts in his journal, noting the Mojave through his very own eyes and how different it was to the Metro.

His concentration to write didn't make him notice the caravaner coming close to him. "What are you writing about?" She asked.

"Nothing really." Artyom answered.

With a bottle of whiskey in hand, she sat beside him. "Someone doesn't do anything for no reason. There has to be a reason why you decided to write. Everyone has a reason, including you."

He remained silent.

"Since you're not willing to share your reasons, I better tell you why I drink. Ask?"

"Why do you drink?"

She smiled. "Aside from drinking away my sorrows, I drink because somehow I want to feel alive when my moment comes. That is my reason. It is what helps me get through the days and sleep through the nights. Well… that is what I like to think why I do."

Artyom was surprised when he saw her grimace in pain as she grabbed her chest. "Are you okay?"

It was momentary as he noticed her relief a moment later. "Yeah, don't worry about me. There is nothing you could do about it."

"What makes you say that?" He wondered.

"It's in the family." Cass answered him. "My ma told me that my dad had problems. Like father like daughter, I get his drinking and his heart problems." Then she took another swig at her whiskey bottle, only that she drank it empty. "That should do it for the night." She burped before quietly laughing to herself. "You never answered my question, why do you write?"

Artyom looked up at the night sky, seeing the stars for the first time. "I know sometimes at some point, I might day at anytime and anywhere." He answered. "The Metro is a harsh place and my mother was one of its first victims after the bombs fell. In a blink of an eye, my childhood was erased as my mother and I descended into the Metro for safety. The world we-I once lived is gone." Then he lowered his head in shame. "Whatever possible future I could have gotten was extinguished." A quick glance to his journal. "The notes just help with… my sanity."

"You were a pre-war survivor?"

He nodded his head. "I was a boy twenty years ago when it happened."

"I'm sorry. It must have been harsh."

"It was." He replied. "Aren't you going to sleep?"

"I would, but it takes some time for me to sleep after a long time."

A thought from a long time ago made him consider this option. "Would a lullaby help?"

"What are you? Six?"

"It's in Russian, so you might not understand it."

"If I don't sleep in the next ten minutes, don't even suggest the idea again."

"Very well." Artyom replied.

As Cass rose from beside the stalker, Artyom sung his native tongue while Cass found comfort in sleeping on her mattress. It was a long time since he heard it from his mother's own lips as he sung the lullaby, he resisted the urge the cry.

When the campfire slowly died away as Artyom's eyes adjusted to the darkness.

He wanted to sleep, but Cass and Ghost were relying on him as they remained quietly. Occasionally, he could hear their ramblings such as Cass trying to chase a bottle of whiskey in her dreams, but it was amusing to him. As time went on, the young man began to get a feel of his weapon. While it would be nice to have that PipBoy tell him what kind of weapon he was using, he could tell that this submachine gun was compact with easy control.

While the man continued to inspect the weapon with his hands, the stalker heard a crack behind him. One of the benefits of keeping broken shards of glass surrounding the entire camp was the direction the intruder game from.

Artyom turned around with his submachine gun in hand as he saw five shadows appear in front of him with one of them descending upon him. Before his assailant could get the opportunity, he pulled the trigger and watched his attacked be riddled with bullets. The damage was enough to kill him while he turned his full attention onto the others. There was still enough ammo to kill their attackers, but as he pulled the trigger his weapon jammed. "Shit!" Artyom swore to himself.

The assailants revealed themselves to the dying campfire of men clad in red before a kick was the last thing he saw.

* * *

Screaming, it was all he could hear as he opened his eyes. He watched in horror as his cheek was pressed against the ground. Artyom tried to get up, but his wrists were bonded.

Cass and Ghost were fighting for their lives as the assailants tried to take advantage of their situation. However, the caravaner stabbed her attacker with a broken whiskey bottle while Ghost was punched back against two men clad in red. "No…" He weakly called out. His companions tried to hold out against their strong foes, but Ghost showed signs of succumbing to the beatings of the men.

It worsened when Ghost was screaming as one of the men grabbed her by the hair while the other began to sit atop of her. He was helpless to stop this.

Artyom noticed the fourth man step in front of him. Then the fourth man fell to one knee in front of him. "I don't know whether to congratulate you on handing over such beautiful slaves to the Legion or strangle you for killing my man, but I know that Caesar has a great interest in you." The stranger began. "I don't know why he would want a profligate, but I will show you the price of those who defy the Legion. Watch."

No, he wouldn't give this man the satisfaction. Fear entered his mind about the fate of Cass and Ghost while he wanted something to happen. There had to be a way to help his companions from their demise at these men.

Then a familiar voice assured him. 'Save… life…' Artyom forgot about the Dark One and he was here.

A blade was planted in front of his face with the stranger talking to him. "I said look!" He ordered.

A smile fell on Artyom's lips as he turned his head and looked up at his captor. "Go to hell."

The man was about to smash him with his boots, but there was a familiar feeling the stalker knew a long time ago. He couldn't know what it was, but it was there. A rush of wind flew over his body with a ringing Artyom could tolerate. However, the man who wanted him to witness his companions being taken advantage of was not on his knees in tears. "No, please stay away from me."

The rest of the assailants abandoned their would be victims and walked up towards the stalker. "What sorcery did you do, profligate?" Superstition? That was something to take advantage of. Another gust of wind flew in their faces as the man who was being denied by Cass had succumbed to the power of the Dark One. Where it was, Artyom had no clue, but it was doing something.

As for the two remaining assailants, they looked around in fear as they readied their weapons. One with a sledgehammer and the other with a machete. They were not going to survive the next engagement.

A dark figure appeared out of thin air, surprising the attackers with its tall form. The man with the machete tried to stab the creature, but a brief flash made it disappear for a moment and return to reality behind the man. Then its hands quickly lunged towards the assailant, knocking him out of the fight.

The Dark One was quick to focus its full attention on the last attacker and swiped its hands over him. The mutant's power was not something to ignore as the man fell before it and Artyom was glad that the Dark One saved him. It would have been impossible to kill these men without touching Ghost or Cass in the process. 'You are safe…'The creature glanced over to him and was about to walk away, but loud gunshots echoed from behind its back.

Despite its powers and its reputation, it could save it from the many dangers of the wasteland. The Dark One fell to the ground as one of the attackers rose from the ground with satisfaction. "True to Caesar, die!"

"Cyka blyat!" Artyom swore to himself as he tried to get himself out of the bondage.

The stranger aimed his revolver at him, but the buttstock of a rifle had made its mark on the back of his head.

Ranger Ghost was off the ground as she began to beat the man to death with her own hands. At the same time, Cass ran up to him with a knife in hand. "Artyom, hold still. I'm going to get you out!" The young man felt relief as the cowgirl freed him from the irritation the ropes brought him.

Ghost aimed her rifle at the last survivor and shot him dead. "Fuck you, Legion piece of shit." She said angrily, with her clothes damaged in the fighting.

Freed from captivity, Artyom began to check the vitals of the Dark One to the best of his ability. No, he had to make sure the Dark One was not going to die. The creature saved his life once, he had to return the favor.

Cass stood beside him, looking at the corpse in his hands. "Artyom, what is this thing?"

[It's a Dark One.] He answered.

"Could you repeat that?" Strange, what he said didn't make any sense to them, but he could understand them. Why did this happen?

As the stalker stood beside the creature's body, he felt the rhythm in its chest fade away. Artyom had seen a Dark One die once - at the hands of Hunter. While its heartbeats slowly disappear, a strange voice spoke to him. 'Need… voice… cannot… help…' What did this creature mean? Then a connection was made - the Dark One helped him understand his companions. It's hand reached out to touch his hand while its eyes stared at him. 'Here… it… helps… but find… others… Stalkers - yes… find stalkers…' The Dark One succumbed to its wounds as its strength failed it. Before Artyom was a dead Dark One.

"Hey, can you hear me?!" Cass shouted, grabbing his attention. "What the fuck is going on?"

[The Dark One, it saved us.]

"Cut the Russian and speak English!"

[A Dark One saved us!] It wasn't working, she couldn't understand. He had to find a way to communicate with her. He pointed at the body of the Dark One before redirecting his finger towards his mouth.

"Why can't you talk?"

He repeated his motions with greater emphasis, but the woman couldn't understand. Artyom noticed Ranger Ghost leave the body of one of the attackers as she stormed for his attention with her rifle aimed at him. "You were supposed to be on watch! What the hell were you doing - sleeping?!"

Was the Ranger blaming him for what had happened? [No, my gun jammed.] He replied.

"Speak up!"

Shit! Ranger Ghost can't understand him and now she could kill him on the spot in the middle of nowhere. He had to convince her that his weapon was jammed. Perhaps he needed to show her? Artyom glanced over to his submachine gun and pointed at the gun's loading mechanism.

"What the hell are you trying to say?" Ghost questioned. "Was your gun jammed?"

He nodded in acknowledgement.

She lowered her rifle and glanced towards his weapon. "It got jammed in the fight." Then the Ranger looked around as Artyom pointed towards his first kill during the night. "There were five guys. You killed one of them, but your gun jammed before you could get the others."

[Yes.]

"Why didn't you tell us to wake up?"

He didn't have a reason to save him from the blame. The stalker lowered his head in shame, he had that opportunity to warn them.

"I knew I shouldn't have trusted you." Ghost replied.

To Artyom's surprise, the caravaner confronted her. "Hey, his gun was jammed. What would you do if you were on watch?"

"He failed to warn us, Cass. If it weren't for that _thing_ , we would have become the Legion's babymakers." She glanced back at the young man and turned away from them. "We better leave, there might be more patrols nearby."

[I'm sorry...] He commented.

"Whatever the hell you just said, I don't give a shit. You nearly got us killed." The venom in her voice was difficult to ignore.

While the Ranger began to pack her gear, Cass placed a hand on his shoulder. "We just got lucky, but Ghost is right. You nearly got us killed." Then she glanced over to the body of the Dark One. "I hope you don't let something like that happen again."

He had to find a way to understand. "Stalker…"

"What?"

"Find… stalkers…" Artyom answered. "Help… understand…" He struggled trying to speak those words. Perhaps being around the company of non-Russian people helped, but it was difficult to speak these strange words in English. "Novac…"

"Ghost, I think we should hurry to Novac. There is something wrong with Artyom."

* * *

Author's Note: I was about to make a new side story, but I didn't really have anything in mind. As for the song Artyomsung, it's a lullaby that was shown in the live-action for Metro: Last Light. Another mention is that the words in the brackets is Artyom talking in Russian. I could try to use translate, but I don't want to offend anyone Russian by mutilating their language.

* * *

 **Mandalore the Freedom** : Unlike the canon timelime, Artyom is going to have a bit of characterization involved throughout the story as it progresses. Now his companionship with Cass is something I have been thinking about for some time and Cass's age was one of the few things I had to consider. While I normally wouldn't be so sure it would be possible, I think about the canon version of the Courier and one of the developers consideration to have the Courier accidentally marry her. Now Ghost will have a slight story background and considering how Cass talks about her, I have a feeling that they know a lot 'bout each other.

Although the Legion has the notorious reputation in warfare and the NCR with its troop numbers and veteran Rangers, the Polis Rangers and the rest of the Metro have plenty of advantages that shouldn't be ignored. The Polis Rangers are pre-war survivors who consist of ex-Spetsnaz, ex-FSB/KGB, ex-Army personnel. They have a military experience that outweighs anything the Legion and the NCR has. Not to mention, Soviet engineering and nightvision equipment.

The problem that the NCR and the Legion have with their weapons is the simple fact that they need to have a hefty supply to replace deteriorating equipment. For the NCR, they have the Gun Runners while the Legion have to scavenge for theirs. Although the Metro has a knack for makeshift weapons such as the Shambler or the Hellbreath, the Kalashnikovs still hold up their reputation to withstand plenty of hell before it breaks.. To take it even further, the dirty ammunition in the Metro is what the Fallout factions consider bulk ammo, which is below them while the Metro factions have no problems with it.

As someone from a Spacebattles thread about a Metro/RWBY cross about the Kalashnikov:

"Fuck you, I'm not made to be pretty."

On the political side, the NCR would be interesting in the Polis Rangers in the same way they were interested in the Desert Rangers of the Mojave. However, they would probably see them act more like the Followers of the Apocalypse in how they view technology, which might make Polis clash with the Brotherhood of Steel based on their views.

About the political ideologies, the Followers and the NCR will finally see Nazism and Communism first-hand since pre-war America was very anti-Nazi and anti-Communist, but to see those ideologies with their own eyes would bring insight about America's past while learning why Polis hasn't gotten rid of them.


	13. Chapter 13: A Night in Novac

The duo had traveled south as the Red Line operative followed his companion with a canteen in hand. "You know, Veronica, I appreciate to know why we had to pass through an entire field of fire ants, bandits, and those flying tarantulas?" He asked, curious about her reasoning.

She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him. "Simple, Novac has a small scrapyard in the town where people like me can salvage stuff for free. I don't have to pay for anything and you don't have to worry about me."

"Is there a place we can stay in the meantime?"

"Yeah. Novac is known for its rooms for passing merchants and travelers. I'm sure they have a room for us if I have enough caps to pay for one night."

"How does one really make money in the Mojave?"

"Pavel, why are you asking these questions?" Veronica questioned.

"Where I'm from, most people tend to become stalkers and collect scrap just to earn bullets for bringing the salvage back to their stations. I wonder if it is the same here."

She shook her head. "Scavenging is a poor way to make caps, most people just settle for being a mercenary or a traveling merchant and with the NCR trying to take control over New Vegas, scavenging is below them."

Now that was worthy of a question. "What is the NCR?"

"You don't know who they are? I'll simplify it for you, they're the New Californian Republic." The scavenger answered. "They are a democratic society that is trying to spread its territory everywhere and get control of everything. They have a standard army and they even have a Senate - can you believe that?"

"Yeah. Back in Moscow, we have the Politburo for the Red Line." Pavel answered. "I'm not surprised that there is a faction with ideas from the past."

"That is interesting. Maybe I would like to come over there one of these days and you could teach me how to cook whatever you cooked last night."

He smiled at the thought, but he knew better than to come home with a girl. It would usually involve the secret police to come and find him then question him for his 'fading loyalties' to the party and the revolution. "They wouldn't like you. Trust me on that."

"They don't like outsiders? I can understand that. My family has the same treatment whenever I bring people home," She chuckled. "But I don't blame them. They're trying to watch out for me since the Mojave has its dangerous moments. What about your family?"

Family? His parents sacrificed their lives for the Red Line when the Nazis invaded his station. His true family was to the men he served alongside while Korbut was the harsh father-figure in the Red Line. The general would praise him for his accomplishments and would also berate him for going outside the box. The party was his family and he was their children. "Let's just say it's complicated."

Veronica stopped walking as she pointed her hand towards the direction of the town and the giant dinosaur present. "Here we are. Welcome to Novac."

* * *

Boone stood vigilant from his position in the dinosaur's mouth while his sniper rifle overlooked the road to the east. News from the radio had told him that the Legion's increased presence at Nelson. He wished the troopers at Forlorn Hope luck, they were going to need it when the fighting gets started. Based on the information from Novac's local Ranger, Forlorn Hope had the worst attrition rate and logistic rate in the army. An attack by the Legion would break those boys if the Legion saw a chance to take it.

He heard knocking on the door as a feminine voice called out to him. "Dinner." She said in a cold tone.

The sniper turned away from looking at the landscape, only to swing the door open and let the person in. "Why did you bring food up here?" He asked. "I already ate earlier."

She did not care about his situation with his stomach. "That was five hours ago. You need to eat if you want to stay awake on your watch."

Ever since he had met the female sniper days ago, she was insistent on helping the town despite having two ex-NCR snipers and an injured Ranger living here. While he objected to her request, he was the only one who ever did. "Anna, I don't need you to babysit me."

The strange woman chuckled. "You'd be surprised at how many men say that around me until they start whining at their wounds." They both sat down on the floor as she placed a tray between herself and Boone. "Considering how I'm the only one here with nightvision goggles, you might need my help."

"My eyes are good, no need for your help."

"Sometimes the naked eye can't do things when looking at a certain perspective." The woman replied as she slung her long rifle off her shoulders. "Besides, I heard that you get plenty of slavers at night. I thought I could see what this Legion is capable of." Then she grabbed a cup from the tray and handed it to him.

"What is this?"

"Mushroom tea. It's a commodity from where I come from, but it helps with the stress and less stress means more focus on the targets." Anna explained.

Boone took the cup and felt reluctant to take a sip. Once he tasted its contents, his tongue felt a bitter taste while it brought a relaxing feel. "How do you make this?"

"I don't. If I was back in Moscow, I would have access to that stuff, but I only have a few packets with me."

"Thank you, I appreciate the assistance." Then he noticed the young raven woman looking out at the sky with her goggles looking over the teeth and towards the eastern road. "How can you see out of those things?"

"Heat, thermal. That is what my mentor taught me. It detects creatures based on distance and its warmth. Very useful for finding people trying to sneak their way out."

Curious about the little device over her eyes he continued to ask away. "How do you power it?"

"Where I'm from, we use a hand-crank battery charger in case our flashlights or nightvision goggles are low on battery," Anna answered. "A self-sufficient way to get around the energy problem.

If he had something like that in the military, it would have been useful for the snipers or the Rangers to have whenever they needed it. Yet, he wondered whether the place she was from made a good use out of this equipment. "What is it like in your home?" He asked.

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm curious. You have a strange voice and your appearance doesn't seem to be from around the Mojave."

Anna raised her nightvision goggles and glanced towards the ex-NCR sniper. "I'm from the Moscow Metro and I'm part of a force known as the Polis Rangers of the Spartan Order. That is all you need to know about me." Her tone was icy, but she brought enough information for the Boone to know.

"Are they some kind of special forces?"

She chuckled. "In some ways, but we're the sort that helps the Council learn about the matters in the Metro. We're peacekeepers, mutant killers, and the Council's agents."

"What about you? Are you an agent?"

"No, I'm more like a mutant hunter." Her eyes returned to being covered by hernightvision goggles just to look through the scope of her large sniper rifle.

* * *

Artyom was tired, but it was a price he would pay to escape another patrol. After his first initial encounter with Caesar's Legion, the young stalker knew better than to play fate's hand in getting him and his companions captured. As he unjammed his weapon, then he watched as the Ranger continued to lead the way towards Novac.

They had just passed by Ranger Station Charlie, only to learn its inhabitants were killed. A depressing matter for Ghost as she led the way. He could try and comfort her but felt his previous actions would probably worsen his relationship with his companions. With his inability to not have someone understand him, Cass and Ghost would go through hell trying to understand what he's saying. This was one of the cases where he needed to remain silent.

His eyes looked past the shoulders of his companions, only to see a small settlement with a strange lizard creature in the area. "We're in Novac." He heard Cass comment. "The people should have a room ready for nights like this."

Then Ranger Ghost spoke. "And share a room with that guy?" A slight jab at the events beforehand. "I'd rather sleep outside." She said while passing by a pen of two-headed creatures grazing on the land. They were mutated, but they were not malicious unlike the Nosalises in the Metro.

"Your choice then, I'll take the bed. What about you Artyom? Do you mind sharing?" What could he say? They couldn't understand.

Cass glanced over her shoulder for an answer. He answered with a slight nod to the head as he saw a smile on her lips.

"That doesn't mean you - look out!" That smile of hers disappeared as she lunged towards him and pushed him out of the way.

When Artyom was on the ground, he saw his companion stand where he once stood. A strange movement like that of water was present before Cass, only to flash before his very eyes to display its muscular blue form. Its body resembled a human, but the words it spoke left little comfort at what it was. The "person" growled as it stared at the woman. "Head voices say they knew the flower girl's father." The strange creature said.

Then he heard Ranger Ghost scream before firing her rifle. "Cass, get back!"

As the fight erupted, the stalker reached for his submachine gun and began to aim it at the creature attacking his group. Before Cass could do anything, the monster pulled out a gun and smashed his weapon causing her to be tossed aside like a ragdoll. However, she screamed in agony when she landed on the pen's fence. [No!]

"Artyom, kill that thing before it starts firing!" Ghost ordered as she loaded another round into her rifle.

The young man saw the creature's weapon have its barrels spinning while screaming in delight. Despite its superior strength, it appeared to have been ignorant of him as he pulled the trigger on his submachine gun.

Bullets flew towards the monster with a spread comparable to the Bastard gun. Artyom's weapon had expended the last bullet in its magazine, yet, the creature was still standing. Despite the disheartening sight of his gun not doing well, the creature dropped its weapon and held onto its hands. "My hand!" It cried. "Human shot my hand!" In a fit of rage, the creature looked away from its fingers while its eyes greedily stared at him. "Die, human!"

There was one word Artyom could form from his mouth. [Shit.]

"I'm out!" Ghost commented, informing the stalker that he was on his own for a few moments. "Keep the nightkin busy."

He tried to load his next magazine as quick as he could, but he felt the tense grasp around his neck. "This is for my hand." It said before tightening its grip on his throat.

No, he was not going to die like this. Thoughts of desperate attempts to live occurred in the limited amount of time he had as the nightkin savored in his suffering. Artyom snatched his trench knife and began stabbing at the creature's arm in a vicious fashion. The blood he spilled by doing so was enough for the nightkin to release its hold on him as he cried out in pain.

When Artyom landed in the dirt, he looked while he gasped for in his lungs. The creature was about to stomp him until he saw a stream of green light land on its back. It turned its attention away from the stalker, allowing him to smell burning flesh and feel the heat of plasma. Another stream made its mark, causing its body to disintegrate into ash.

To the nearby buildings, lights flickered to life as shadows moved to and fro. People shouted from inside their homes while doors fluttered open. The town of Novac was awake. Yet, Artyom ignored the attention he brought as he ran over to Cass' side and saw her moaning in pain. There was a piece of wood sticking in her back.

The caravaner was bleeding and needed medical attention. Artyom brought out his orange case medkit and scrambled to pull the cap off the needle - morphine. It wasn't much, but the medicine helped dull the pain for the actual doctors. After giving the dose to his companion, he quietly prayed to god to help him. [Please God, help my friend in need.] It had been some time since Exhibition, but the fears he once had at home had returned while he looked at Cass' wound. He didn't have any medical knowledge to help her.

"Artyom, is that you?" Called a familiar voice.

The stalker looked up from his wounded companion, only to recognize the familiar face - the woman who stole his guns. Unlike his previous encounter with the girl, she expressed her horror at his predicament before kneeling beside him. "Angelique?"

"What the hell happened here?" The Courier wondered.

Then Ranger Ghost was quick to answer. "We were attacked by a nightkin supermutant. It had some kind of stealth field and caught us off-guard."

"Shit, a supermutant. Artyom, let me see her wounds?" The stalker moved aside as Angelique began to check her back left shoulder. "It's a good thing I got some doctor bags and some stimpacks. All we need to do is find a bed for her."

"You're a trained medic? Hell - I don't even think you're capable of helping her."

Out from her bag, the Courier jammed a large needle-like device into the caravaner before bringing her PipBoy above Cass and turning on the light. "I'm trained, Ranger, believe me." She answered.

The group heard sand and gravel crushed underneath a boot. As Artyom looked at the the stranger from the town, he noted the man's red beret in the white T-shirt as he held a scoped rifle in his hands. "I heard from some of the folks here have been hearing gunfire, what happened?"

"Simple," Replied Ranger Ghost as she confronted the man herself. "You don't look like you're from around here. Especially with that beret of yours. Who are you?"

"I'm an ex-sniper from the 1st Recon Battalion and I am currently the nightshift guard for Novac."

"Shouldn't you be up for your post?"

"Don't worry, someone has occupied my spot until then. Now who are you and what the hell is going on here?"

"Ranger Ghost from the Mojave Outpost. I was out accompanying these civilians for the time being until we were attacked by a supermutant. One of our people is critically wounded, is there a place to stay?"

The sniper nodded his head before slinging his rifle over his shoulder. "I don't know, I heard that everything was occupied."

The Courier rose from her patient and grabbed their attention. "It just so happens that I'm occupying one of those rooms at the moment," Angelique commented. "Now could you all help me out and bring her into my room."

Artyom looked over Cass's shoulder and glanced towards the young woman. He wanted to talk, but he knew his language was not being able to be understood by these people.

"Alright Artyom, help me out here."

* * *

After Cass was brought to the Courier's room, everyone had departed from the situation. Ranger Ghost had discovered another NCR Ranger was currently occupying another room. Then the sniper that introduced them into the town was now on alert ever since he had arrived in Novac.

Artyom didn't do anything aside from keeping Cass and Angelique company. To his surprise, the Courier appeared to be well-versed in the art of medicine. By Metro standards, she would be the most valuable member of any civilized station. He remained silent in his chair as he stayed beside Cass's bedside.

Once Angelique was finished checking her vitals, she glanced over at him. "She will recover, but Cass needs some time to rest."

A small pause between him and the Courier.

"It's been awhile since we last met, how are things with you?" Still no response. "Giving me the silent treatment eh?" She nodded her head in acknowledgment of his silence. "To be honest, I deserve it. I did run off with all of your weapons. If I didn't… none of this wouldn't happen."

What could he do? What could he say? The Dark One was his relay - a translator and without a Dark One present, he could say anything without speaking his mother's tongue in a place far away from home.

Angelique chuckled. "Funny, no weapon vendor was willing to buy your weapons since they looked like complete garbage. Consider yourself lucky that I still have your weapons around." She rose from her seat across the bed and brought a suitcase over to Artyom. "Here, you can have them back." Then she made her way towards the door. "If anything happens, come and find me. I'll be outside."

Now that was a surprise to the stalker. He had expected the woman to sell his weapon as well. Perhaps the Bastard gun was not something anyone wanted to use except him unless there was another Metro survivor nearby.

Since he was away from danger, Artyom took comfort in his seat and watched Cass rest from the events that had just transpired. There was a temptation to leave Cass all by herself, but there was a sense of helpfulness he wanted to provide in case the caravaner needed anything. Now that he thought about it, perhaps making mushroom tea and a few bottles of whiskey might be needed in case she woke up, but right after he slept.

As his eyes began to close, there was a strange sensation in his mind that just occurred to him.

'Danger… follows…' A voice whispered in his mind. 'Be… ready…'

* * *

Author's Note: Looking at this chapter now, I have never felt so tired while making this chapter.

* * *

 **Mandalore the Freedom** : Unlike Artyom, Ghost has a longer experience with the Legion and knows what they're capable. I would be angry too when the consequences of being a woman captured by the Legion is becoming a baby maker.

About the debate between the Legion and the Nazis, Artyom doesn't know how bad the Legion is until he sees first-hand.

The lores between the Fallout and the Metro universes will find a way to be connected by a certain point, but it's essentially two universes meeting each other. It just so happens they are both in the post-apocalyptic setting. Now in Fallout universe, the Soviet Union was still around and tensions were far better with them than the Chinese.

As for Polis and Legate Lanius, the Polis Rangers are basically the Swiss Pikemen of the Metro. After listening to the banter between the Rangers at the first level in Last Light, they will fight to the death and give no mercy to their enemies just like the Swiss Pikemen and it's probably because they're essentially a city-state surrounded by powerful factions like the Red Line, Fourth Reich, and Hanza.

 **LanzCorporalAssWipe** : *Jedi hand waves* _You did not see those words._

 **Paladin Bailey** : Yes, seeing those ideologies in the Mojave would be one serious "WTF" moment for any pre-war ghouls, machines, or those who have pre-war knowledge.

The Polis Rangers have an advantage that the Brotherhood of Steel doesn't have, they're friendly towards people _and_ they don't hoard technology. They're more in line with the Followers of the Apocalypse since they try to use the technology to help humanity as whole, which goes against the philosophy of the Brotherhood of Steel as a whole. Why I believe they're more in line with the Followers is the simple fact that they are the post-apocalyptic version of United Nations Peacekeepers that happen to have the reputation of the Swiss Pikemen.

 **TMDF-Artyom** : How does a Dark One die? From the way you experienced them is probably the game just not allowing you to kill them. It just so happens that they're really difficult to kill in the first place because it's just so easy for them to break one's mind.

In Metro 2033 Redux, there is a shadow of a Dark One and it shows that they can be killed by bullets, but is just so damn difficult to kill a Dark One without them breaking your mind in the first place. That is how I interpret it.

 **Guest** : Don't worry about it. I already know about ShoddyCast. In fact, I stumbled upon them on accident when I wasn't looking for Fallout vids. However, I never gotten around to watching them. Thanks for reminding me about that.


	14. Chapter 14: Darkness Before the Storm

Dreams. They were very rare occasions to have when most of her nights consisted of drinking whiskey to sleep and waking up to the next day. However, Cass knew that when she dreamt she would nothing more than the few moments spent with her father. If people remarked her as "daddy's little girl" they would be met with her fists. In her mind, she enjoyed the sight of the little girl going out to the range with the support of her dad. Even those moments when he commented on her lack of control.

Such moments of comfort had faded away as she found herself standing in the abyss with a single light shining from above. "What the fuck?" Cass looked around, confused at her situation. This was supposed to be a dream, it had to be. "There is something wrong here."

A voice called out to her as she heard the footsteps coming towards her. "Cass!" Out from the darkness, the caravaner saw Artyom come into the light with a smile on his face. "You are a sight for sore eyes."

"What are you doing here?" She wondered. "This was supposed to be a dream."

He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I fell asleep before I came here."

"Weird… I was having the same thing."

Artyom shook his head. "That… that can't be a coincidence." He replied. "We are talking to each other. It shouldn't be possible."

"Maybe I'm dreaming about you and you are not really talking to me." This had to be nonsense. "You're not real."

"I am real."

"Prove it." Cass demanded. She had seen many things as a caravaner, but this was really pushing it.

He didn't even seem to find the words to reply.

"Now get out of my head."

"I-I can't."

"Of course you can, all you have to do is disappear from my mind and that's it. Poof, there is nothing you can do about it."

Artyom raised his eyebrows. "I'll probably have to find that whiskey you enjoy."

"I'd appreciate that after you disappear."

Out from the abyss, Artyom was quick to take notice of the tall figure walking towards them. "I knew there was something off."

When Cass followed his eyes to what he was looking at, she was immediately reminded of that creature that saved her and Ranger Ghost from the Legion. Then she saw it turn its full attention towards her with eyes focused. 'It is not his fault.' The creature said with no mouth to speak of. 'His mind is connected to ours… you have been given that moment… for the time being…"

She froze underneath the light, fearing what this thing could do. It wasn't anything she had seen before. "What are you?"

"It's a Dark One." Artyom answered.

Then the woman looked over to her companion. "You know this thing?"

He nodded his head. "It's not native from the Mojave… it's a mutant species from Moscow. Unlike the other mutants I've come across, the Dark Ones talk to you through your mind. They were also the ones translating for me and it's the reason why I wasn't able to talk to you."

Now this was plenty to take in. This was something out of those pre-war comics she read during her time as a caravaner. Yet, she was now dreaming of one. "I-I don't know what to say. You have to be a dream, because this is not normal."

Artyom chuckled. "My home has a different standard of normal compared to the Mojave." He answered. "Believe me, I know because I was skeptical as well."

'She is unconvinced… perhaps there is another way to gain your trust…' The Dark One replied. 'Artyom, I will show you a memory of yours. Maybe it will help.'

"You're going to show me Artyom's memory? Hell, I don't even think Artyom's background is really true to begin with." Then she noticed the young man lower his head. "What?"

The stalker looked back at her with sorrow in his expression. "My memory is just as real as you dreaming of your father." He replied. "Believe me, this is no dream you can think of." Then he glanced over to the Dark One. "I know your kind, Dark One. Do not take advantage of her." He was confronting the very creature that was defending his case of him not being a dream.

'Your mind is still human… ours are not…'

The light above her disappeared and Cass found herself alone in the darkness. "Guys?" She was met with a sudden light before her eyes. After she shielded herself away from the light, she waited a moment until she could clearly open her eyes wide open. What she found was alarmingly strange.

Before Cass was the sight of city filled with people who reminded her too much of those pre-war photos of the past. Yet, these people were dressed differently. Unlike the wreckage on the highways, cars were still working the streets with lights and signs untouched by disrepair or explosions. Deformities of people mutated by radiation were present. What she saw was a world beyond her imagination. "This has to be a dream." She quietly said to herself.

Then she turned around and saw Artyom standing before her in his cloths, a contrast to the ones people wore in this place. "It's not a dream. They don't end with this." He walked past her and pointed to a building with strange lettering across the entire park. "Follow me."

For once, Cass felt helpless. This place was nothing she had anticipated in her entire life. Most of her imagination consisted of the good things in the wasteland, not of places before the bombs fell. To her surprise, the peaceful scenery turned into chaos as soon as she followed Artyom across the street and towards building.

She saw an old man running towards the gate as he turned around and looked at the sky. Then he made his way through the doors while bystanders strangely glanced over to him. Sirens blared to life as loud screams behind her back had caught her attention. Looking over her shoulder, Cass witnessed large rockets stream from the ground as they lunged themselves towards the sky.

When the sight was beyond the clouds, people turned away from their humble lives and fled for the very building the old man went to. Their cries did little to comfort her as they poured through the doorways. With their numbers trying to rush through the doors, she felt their pushing and shoving without disregard for her well-being. "Shit, Artyom where are you?" The bodies of many squeezed her into the building, only to find Artyom standing before her at the center of the room and ignoring many who ran past him. "That… was too real." She commented before joining on his side. "Why are we here?"

The stalker slipped his hands into his pockets and stared at the doorway. "The Dark Ones wanted me to show you my memory, I'm here to guide you and point out where I am." He answered.

Unlike the many storming past the doors and moving into a passage deeper into the underground, a dozen soldiers dressed in coats marched towards the doors with their assault rifles drawn. Cass deduced they were soldiers with strange hats with the exception of one of the men wearing a peaked cap. The man was in charge of those soldiers.

Then the officer raised his hand and looked at his watch before glancing over to the people pouring in. He returned his hand behind his back with words that made Cass shiver. "Close the doors." He ordered.

The soldiers were quick to move to the doors and force the civilians back. The NCR had a tendency to act like this, but this was entirely people. People were being left out to die outside those doors.

Of all the doors that were closed, the one in the center was struggling as people seeped through. The officer stepped forward with his assault rifle drawn, but the barrel aimed at the ceiling. A single shot echoed throughout the building as the civilians prying over one-another had froze in their tracks.

At the front of the groups, a woman carrying a toddler in her arms was pleading for him with tears in her eyes. The child on the other hand had little clue of what was going on. "That's me." Artyom stated.

The officer stepped forward and pulled the mother and her child through the doorway before his soldiers closed the last set of doors on the people he had just condemned. His boots clicked as he turned away from the doors and escorted the woman down the passage. Yet, Cass could see the tears in his eyes. "You lived before the war."

"Do you still believe this is a dream?"

She shook her head. "Yes."

"I see."

The memory disappeared from the caravaner as darkness returned in the depths of her mind. Except the light which appeared above her was no longer present. Then she heard the Dark One speak. 'Wake up, Rose of Sharon Cassidy…'

The dreams faded when she opened her eyes, only to feel the rays of sunlight through the windows. It was morning, but the dream she had only made her confused about her thoughts on Artyom. When tried to move, pain in her shoulder had demanded her full attention, only to find bandages on the wound she received from the blue supermutant. "Damn, that hurts." Then she looked around, only to see Artyom sitting in a chair and his head tilted up.

She did not wish to speak about what happened in her mind, but the stalker's head slowly moved away from leaning back as he shook his head. "The Dark Ones really need to stop doing that." He said to himself before his eyes met hers. "What did you think about my childhood memory?"

No. Her conversation with Artyom shouldn't be real in the first place. If it was, he couldn't have known if it was a dream. "How do you know?"

He massaged his temples and groaned. "Power of the Dark Ones that is all I know about it." Then he froze and reached for his throat. "No way…"

"What is it?"

The stalker looked around and smiled. "I can finally understand you, though I don't understand why they would want to talk to you as well."

"You're connected with their minds and you don't know?"

"I'm just in the dark like you."

She glanced over to her wound and pondered about who helped her. "Who decided to patch me up?" The caravaner questioned.

Artyom chuckled. "The person who stole our guns."

"That bitch?! As soon as I'm getting out of bed, she's going to have one coming for her."

"She also happens to have medical experience in treating your wounds, do you really think you should do that?" He questioned.

"Yes! She stole our guns and left us defenseless for the raiders. Hell, we were lucky that no didn't find us and stick us for caps. I don't know how you can be so comfortable with this."

"Do you remember what I told you about me and her, somebody shot us in the head and she is my best chance at getting my Kalashnikov back from that gopnik."

She rolled her eyes. "Damn it, now I need a drink."

The stalker rose from his seat and pulled a small pouch from his backpack. "I'll see to that." However, he also grabbed his double-barreled shotgun and placed it on her lap.

"Why are you giving me your shotgun?" Cass questioned. "It's not like I'm going to use it right now."

"Maybe, but just in case if Angelique sneaks into our room and takes our money."

"Anything I should know about this gun?"

"Point it at the door and let the trigger do the work." He answered before making his way to the door with his makeshift sub-machine gun slung over his shoulder.

* * *

When he stepped out of the door, Artyom saw Ranger Ghost talking with another Ranger in the compound before he was caught off-guard by a voice beside him. "How's Cass?"

The stalker looked to his right, only to see Angelique with a doctor's bag in her hand. "She just woke up." He replied.

"Since you're going out, I'm going to check on Cass. Mind if I come in?"

Artyom knocked on the door and called out for the caravaner. "Angelique is coming in, don't shoot." He glanced over to the woman in the blue jumpsuit, only to see her surprised by this. "If you steal anything, again, Cass will take care of everything."

"Don't worry, I'm going to do anything." Then she stepped closer. "Did you get my message?"

Was she talking about the note from last time? "Yes, do you have anything about the man who shot me?"

Angelique nodded her head. "Yeah, one of Novac's snipers told me they went north to Boulder City."

"Boulder City? What is that place?" He wondered.

"Don't worry, Manny told me it used to be a town that was destroyed during the First Battle of Hoover Dam. I doubt the guys who shot me would want to stay there for long."

"How can you be so sure? Is there anything else I should know?"

She nodded her head. "Turns out they're from New Vegas and my best bet is that they were passing by Boulder City before they end up in the city of lights and thrills. However, Manny told me that getting in requires caps and you don't have much last time I remembered."

"Are we going to go after him before he gets there?" Artyom asked.

"No, but I do have a better idea. There is a place where we can find a way to get rich quickly and get into the city. That way, we don't have to rush things trying to kill the asshole."

A way to get rich quickly, was the person who stole from him offering to go on an expedition? "What exactly do you have in mind?"

She gave off a smile and brought her arm from her side, displaying her Pip-Boy to him. Then she pressed on the small buttons and presented the device to him. "I got a radio of a place called the Sierra Madre. Listen."

The wrist device was also a radio at the same time, interesting. As the radio played out, Artyom heard the most beautiful he had ever heard of speak. "Has your life taken a turn? Do troubles beset you? Has fortune left you behind? If so, the Sierra Madre Casino, in all its glory, is inviting you to begin again. Come to a place where wealth, excitement and intrigue await around every corner. Stroll along the winding streets of our beautiful resort, make new friends, or rekindle old flames. Let your eyes take in the luxurious expanse of the open desert under clear star-lit skies. Gaze straight on into the sunset from our villa rooftops. Countless diversions await: Gamble in our casino, take in the theater, or stay in one of our exclusive executive suits that will shelter you and cater to your every whim. So if life's worries have weighed you don, if you need an escape from your troubles, or if you just need an opportunity to begin again, join us, let go, and leave the world behind at the Sierra Madre grand opening this October… We'll be waiting."

"What do you think?" Angelique questioned. "You think we can find enough caps to get inside New Vegas?"

It was strange, there was a gut feeling that he didn't want to go, but the offer was tempting. If the man responsible for shooting him was going somewhere that required money he would have to try. It's not like this world used bullets as a currency any more. "Maybe. If this is a casino, we might need some extra help if there is anybody protecting whatever was valuable there."

"May I help out?" Wondered someone, who had entered the conversation. Artyom and Angelique looked around, only to look down from the second floor and see a girl in robes wave her hand to the duo. "I overheard your conversation and the proposal about getting help."

"Who are you?" The woman in the blue jumpsuit wondered. "You don't look like you could do much."

Then the stranger presented a strange device covering her entire hand. "I have a powerfist, does that count? I can even salvage some tech if you like."

Artyom noticed a man join her. "There you are. What are you doing here? I thought we were going to salvage some stuff." He recognized the accent. It was Russian. He eyed the man and saw the familiar sight of Russian clothes and equipment that he had seen in the Metro. Ever since his arrival in this place, he'd never thought he would find someone from his home.

She glanced over to her friend. "Don't worry, I'm finding people who might find us useful."

"Veronica, as a soldier of the Red Line I beg to differ."

Then the stalker spoke up. "You're from the Red Line?"

The man on the ground level turned his full attention to him with a smile. "Yes, I work with the Red Line." His expression changed when he noticed a detail on his person. "Wait a minute, you have Bastard Gun with you. You're from the Metro!"

"Yes I am." Artyom replied. "What brings a soldier of the Red Line around these parts?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "One moment I was being attacked by mutants, the next I end up with lovely Veronica."

The girl in the robes chuckled. "I'm very flattered Pavel."

Angelique intervene on the moment. "It appears we got that help you were suggesting. I'll see to Cass if you don't mind." Turning away from the railing, the Courier departed from the group.

"So? Do you think we'll be able to help you and your friend out?" Veronica wondered.

"Definitely. We're just waiting for one of my companions to get healed up."

"I heard she was attacked by a nightkin supermutant? Is she okay?"

"She should be. After all, she's carrying my Duplet."

"What?"

"My double-barreled shotgun."

"Oh." Veronica said with an understanding nod. "I get it."

"I better go, she'swaiting on her whiskey." He replied before he made his way down the steps and into the strange frozen lizard that had its mouth facing the east.

* * *

Anna stood in for Manny as her Preved rested upon the jaws of the dinosaur. Her eyes scanned the horizon like those times she hunted down mutants with her father on the surface. Most fathers don't spend time with their daughters by hunting creatures with high-caliber bullets, but then again her father was an ex-Spetsnaz. It was this very skill in shooting creatures that she accepted since there was a chance those weird people in red would try to harass the town every now and then.

The Polis Ranger noticed a pack of figures in the distance coming their way. She quickly brought her VSV to bear, eyes lining up with the features on the scope. Although it didn't have the magnification of her large sniper rifle, it would suffice. The detail of the figures were better than her eyes, but she saw people in rags being kept together by two stalkers. Yet, they were firing their weapons behind the people. Then she saw the sight of men in red, carrying hammers and spears as if they accepted their savagery.

Putting down her scoped sub-machine gun, she brought up her large rifle and aimed towards the road to the east. There were five targets, each trying to catch up with the civilians and the defending stalkers. They needed cover fire, she would provide them that luxury.

Three men lined up together and she smiled at the sight. This was too easy. With a pull of the trigger, the recoil shifted the weapon upward before she chambered the next round into place. Through the scope, three men were torn apart by the large caliber of her weapon.

The door swung open behind her back as she saw the merchant in the dinosaur check on her. "Hey, is there something going on?"

Anna nodded her head. "Get Boone and Manny, some people need covering fire!" She shouted. The merchant left her as he made his way towards the door. The sniper looked through her scope and saw the next two targets simply put away their spears, but sling out their assault rifles.

To her surprise, they were gunned down in mere moments. There was something off, something wrong. She didn't kill them. Was Manny Vargas that good? She peeked outside of the dinosaur's mouth, only to see two more stalkers armed with the weapons of the Metro. There was something off about this situation, there were four stalkers in the very town she took refuge in.

"What the hell? When did those two get here?"

* * *

Stella opened her eyes, only to feel the ground shaking. Lights passed over her as she heard gunfire in the distance. Ever since the Legion captured her, they tied her hands behind her back, leaving her helpless and in their mercy. Given the opportunity, she looked around and saw a body of a man slumped against the railing while a Centurion walked past her. "Clear the train of the profligates, we need to get back to Caesar's Camp."

One of the Legion soldiers walked up to him. "What of the capture? Do we dispose of her?"

"No, she is one of those Rangers the NCR keeps talking about. We shall test her true worth in the pits if we can return."

While they ignored her she heard voices coming from the body of the dead man across from her. There she saw a radio above his left breast pocket. His uniform didn't appear to be NCR, but it was clear was armed if the gun in his hands were anything to go by. Then she heard the people on the radio. "Merchant Five to Hanza Command! Our train's been hijacked!"

* * *

Author's Note: I apologize for the wait, but schooling was a priority and I decided to finally finish Fallout 4 for the first time ever since I bought the game on release. I essentially took a long break from posting for a bit.


	15. Chapter 15: Hard Liquor

It had been awhile since Bourbon had left Prospekt Mira with Artyom and it wasn't a good note on the Hansa guards. Even though he was accompanied by Polis Rangers, he felt the men he owed money too. Although he wasn't part of the Order, Colonel Miller sought allowed the stalker join the group out of sympathy of his economical situation - a free pass one would say.

After they had gotten past the checkpoint, Colonel Miller stopped the group and huddled in the corner on the other side of the street. "Before we get going, Danila needs some time to recover." He stated. "Do we have any volunteers?"

Bourbon observed one of the Rangers raised his hand. "Might I keep him company?"

Miller shook his head. "Actually, you're the exception. You might annoy him to suicide."

The masked young man chuckled. "Thank you, sir. You just saved me from the hell known as Uhlman."

"My jokes aren't that bad. I mean those guys looked small when they were trying to kill Danila. Something like a Little Caesar."

"No." Colonel Miller stated.

Two Rangers stepped forward. "We'll keep Danila safe, sir. You can count on that."

"Stephan, Boris, once Danila's wounds are good, I want all three of you to get back to Polis."

The second Ranger began to ask questions. "Sir, do you think it's the other factions will actually work together?"

"I don't know, Boris. The fuckers we killed seem to be appearing in the Metro ever since Exhibition reported that they were fighting the Dark Ones." The colonel answered. "Yet, they're also attacking the independent stations. If there is something the Red Line and the Fourth Reich do not like is someone trying to oppose them. While it is an issue, you two should worry about Danila."

"Understood sir, we'll be on our way." Stephan replied. "Let's go Danila. There better be a fucking doctor around."

As the group began to split into a smaller party, Bourbon found himself uncomfortable about the survivors of the attack. "Colonel Miller, what are you going to do about the Exhibition civilians."

The commander lowered his head. "Hope they settle down in Riga or here. There isn't a safe passage into the inner stations without encountering mutants or bandits. Why do you care?"

"I knew the stepson of the Exhibition commander." The stalker answered. "If he does come back, he might want to know where he is."

"I see. Well, we better leave this station while you still have the chance."

Uhlman pulled out a cigarette placed it between his lips. "Say, colonel, what do we do next? I might end up getting bored here."

"After I interrogated the survivor at Riga, he said he was the vanguard of a Legion - scouts."

"Shit." Commented Bourbon. "Looks like we're outnumbered if they were able to overrun an entire station."

"Aside from his attempts in trying to scare me, I took off one of his toes for good measure. A reminder that he fucked with the wrong people."

"So, how will you report this to the Council?"

"The weapons are good enough, but the Red Line and the Fourth Reich might dismiss this entirely of delusion. Something really bad has to happen if those two decide to ceasefire and defend the Metro from whatever is trying to attack us."

To the group's surprise, the stalker heard a familiar voice surprise him. "Ah, Bourbon, it's good to see you. I've been wondering where you've gone off to. You remember, don't you?"

Bourbon turned around and recognized the face of the man he crossed. "Mikhalych, it's a surprise to see you."

The Hansa soldier walked up to him and grabbed him by the collar. "Alright you fuck, what makes you think you can come back here after the stunt you pulled last time?" He demanded. "You're not leaving this station." Then Uhlman stepped between him and puffed his cigarette smoke into his face. He released his grip and took a step back. "What the fuck?! Who do you think you are?! I can put you in prison for that, you piece of shit."

Uhlman laughed. "I'm sorry, we were in the middle of business until you came along to interrupt us."

"Look, take your business elsewhere." The Ranger laughed. "Why are you laughing?"

Colonel Miller walked past the stalker and crossed his arms. "You must have bad eyes if you haven't realized that you're interfering with the Order's business."

Mikhalych's eyes widened as his attitude changed. "My apologies, I didn't even know. I thought the guards at the checkpoint would have told me."

"We just got here." He replied. "Perhaps you were indisposed while we were here."

"So tell me, what brings Bourbon and the Rangers to my station?"

"None of your damn business." Miller replied.

"I see. Well, I hope you and your friend don't mind-"

A Hansa soldier ran up to him with a pair of headsets around his neck. "Sir, news from Hansa Command! One of our merchant trains has been hijacked!"

The bearded Mikhalych glared at him. "What?! Who the fuck would want to do that?"

Then the masked soldier replied. "I don't know, but our goods are on that train. We'll lose a lot of bullets if it doesn't make it to their destination."

"Shit!"

Bourbon chuckled. "Looks like you'll need some help." He commented.

"Why the fuck would you be laughing? You owe me money."

The man he was in debt to had his train stolen. Perhaps lady luck was on his side when it came to people bothering him. An opportunity to get rid of the very thing that plagued him. "Colonel, could we help Mikhalych or are you too busy with the threat from the North?"

Miller turned his full attention on him. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I was thinking about erasing my debt."

"Your debt?" Mikhalych wondered. "You want to pay it off? Clean some of the shit in the pig pens."

"I was thinking of killing the hijackers for you. Think of this as a win-win. I pay off my debt and you don't have to worry about your investment going down the drain."

"Bourbon, you are playing a very dangerous game with me." He said. "I'll accept your offer, but if you don't save my train you would wish you were dead."

"I hate to say it, Bourbon, but you are on your own." The colonel replied. "I got to get to Polis and I can't waste my time with something like a hijacking. So best of luck to you."

"Well, shit." The stalker commented. "Looks like I have to do things myself."

"Ha. You actually thought the Rangers were going to help you? You should be lucky that I'm giving you a railcar to chase after the train." Mikhalych stated. "Let's go, you got some killing to do."

* * *

Stella shivered as she looked around. The train was not as appealing as the one she had been on between Camp McCarran and New Vegas, but it was working after all of these years. As the Legion drag her through the train cars, she noticed bodies of men killed at her captors hands. Their clothes seemed far better than the average prospector in the Wasteland. She pitied whoever was unlucky to meet their soldiers with a blade.

When her captor put her down, she heard him speak. "Keep your head down if you want to live, capture."Gunfire flew past her as she looked around the corner of a crate to see the prime legionaries engaging the owners of this train.

However, she saw the strange soldiers return fire. Yet, she saw a tall figure walking towards the primes in plates of armor. It was almost similar to the power armor she had seen on the heavy troopers, but this was far more primitive in terms of design. Then she saw it carry a large weapon in its hands. "You don't fuck with Hansa!"

She was shocked when she saw the large gun spew pellets of buckshot at the two Legion soldiers, who attempted to charge him. Their bodies were riddled with such firepower before they succumbed to their doom. The only thing keeping him from rescuing her was an entire car of Legionnaires. She could try to disarm her enemies, but they would know and immediately put her down. If only there was an opportunity to get out of these bonds.

Her capture shoved her back behind cover without hesitation. "Know your place, capture!"

Stella looked up to him, eyeing him with pure hatred. "Fuck you."

His head looked past her as he brought out his assault carbine. Although it was not maintained as the NCR's weapons, it was still dangerous. Yet, he never got the chance to use his weapon as a bullet struck him in the chest. The prime dropped his weapon as the force of the bullet made him fly off the train on the other side.

She looked at where the shot came from, only to see two men riding on a railcar. Both men were armed, but one of them stood up from his seat and slipped his weapon aside. "A nu cheeki breeki iv damke!" There was space between the train and the railcar, but she couldn't believe what she was seeing. The man was willing to get himself killed just to get on.

As he jumped from his seat, she watched with awe while his hands reached for the railing. She crossed her fingers knowing that there was a chance he wouldn't make it.

Despite the possibility of death, the man's grip got ahold of the railing before he pulled himself off the side and into the car. His arrival didn't go unnoticed as two legionnaires ran past her with machetes in hand. The stranger was quick to pull out something from his pockets.

The first legionnaire fell, but Stella notice an object protruding out of his throat. Then the second legionnaire was close enough to swing his blade at the arrival. He stepped back before pulled out his own knife, but the attack made the legionnaire extend himself to him. Without delay, the man punched the knife's knuckles into his arm before the knife took care of his throat.

When he was finished with them, the ex-Ranger observed him as he wiped the excess blood off the edge, but when he spoke the words he said did not make sense to her. It was a whole new language for her. "I'm sorry, I don't understand you." She stated. He nodded his head, but it was clear that he understood her.

His knife went to the rope that bonded her into captivity and although it was close to her, she could feel the rope loosen as he brought his blade into its sheath.

"I hate to ask, but do you know where I am?" She wondered.

To her surprise, he spoke in clear English despite the accent. "Rescue train then we'll talk." Then he looked over beside him and handed her the assault carbine on the ground. "Help Hansa out."

Stella heard more shotgun blasts as the volume of gunfire increased. "The Legion is about to take control of the train. Most of them are in the car trying to get past the armored guy."

"I see." He said before pulling out the most bizarre weapon she had come across. It carried shotgun shells in the clamps, but it's design was nothing of the weapons she had seen in the Mojave Wasteland.

"What the hell is that thing?"

"Uboinik, it means murderer." The stranger replied before proceeding into the car with his shotgun raised.

She followed after him watching the various Legion soldiers take notice of him. When they saw him move in from behind, he began to fire shells downrange, inflicting harm on those who were caught in the crossfire. Six shots flew throughout the car as bodies fell. Then he took cover behind a blue box. "Cover me, I'm reloading!" He shouted before he picked the shotgun shells off of his belt and slipped them into the clamps.

The ex-Ranger did what she was told, only to see the infamous armor amongst the Legion ranks - a Centurion. "Look out!" She was quick to pull the trigger as her weapon fired away at the armor. Bullets bounced off or scratched the outer layers as her rescuer stepped back from his cover before blasting away at the warrior coming to kill with his weapon. Then she heard the sounds of chains spinning, only to fear what he had in store for him.

When the Centurion was in the open, Stella saw a ripper in his hand. One of the infamous weapons amongst the Legion. "Profligate, you openly defy the glory of Caesar. Those talents would have been useful in his ranks than in a society lacking morals." He stated.

The man shook his head. "I did not survive the Zone just to deal with a fucking Roman."

Worried about her rescuer's life, she called out to him. "Stay back, he's dangerous at close range."

"Indeed, even this capture knows about my feats. You should be honored that you will die before a glorious warrior of Caesar's Legion. I do not know where I am, but Caesar's Legion will come and will conquer your tribe. Only the strong will endure and I will test you whether you worthy for the Legion."

The man spat at him. "You better start calling me Uncle Bourbon, because I'm going to make you my bitch." This man had plenty of guts to say that to a warrior of the Legion.

"So shall it be, but I will be the one to spill your gu-"

Stella felt the wind fly past her as she watched the gloating Centurion stop talking. Instead, she heard him choking as he placed a hand on his throat. There was a metal rod protruding out of the man's neck as blood seeped throughout his armor.

"...you dare?" The Centurion questioned. "Answer…"

Then she saw the bolts whistle past her as the centurion succumbed the additional attacks, but the ex-Ranger saw the bolts were placed in the chinks of the armor. Either someone had a good eye or noticed the weak points of the Centurion's armor.

When she turned around, an old man was standing there with a weapon unlike any she had seen before. The bolts were lowered as the old man slung his weapon over his shoulder. "I see this train has been through some terrible fighting." He began.

Her rescuer turned around and glanced over to him. "Who the fuck are you?"

"I, my good stalker, am a traveling old man." The stranger said. "You may call me Khan, but as of right now you should worry about the security of the train coming towards us."

Dozens of men stormed into the car with guns raised as a man shouted. "You're on a Hansa train, hands up!" When she returned her full attention towards the front of the train, she saw masked men carrying rifles made out of junk parts while others appeared to be prewar. It didn't matter to her, she was free from the hands of the Legion even if she was lost.

Her rescuer stepped forward.

"Wait a minute, Bourbon? What the hell are you doing here?"

Who named their son Bourbon? "Simple, I'm saving your train. Mikhalych sent me to save your asses."

"Who are the other two?" The armed soldier demanded.

"The old man, I don't know. He arrived last minute. As for the girl, she seemed to be a captive of these assholes."

"Well, if Mikhalych sent you then you are a sight for sore eyes. Those fuckers were pushing towards the conductor." Then he lowered his weapon. "Stand down men, Uncle Bourbon isn't here to take our train. Are you?"

He scoffed at the mere thought. "Me? Fuck that. I know better than to fuck with Hansa after what happened."

"Okay then, you three can sit for the ride since you saved our asses. I got a call to make."

As the tension faded, Stella looked to Bourbon and found him confronting the old man. "Why did you help us?

"You were going to die Bourbon. There was no other way." Khan answered. "I made sure it didn't happen. Where will you go now that you saved this train?"

She saw him glance over to her a curious expression. "I think dropping you off would be a priority as soon as I get off this train. Say girly, where are you from?"

"The New California Republic." Stella replied.

His face changed at the mere mention of her home. "California? Are you fucking with me?"

"No, I'm from California. I'm ex-NCR Ranger that was just captured by these assholes. Why does that matter?"

Bourbon looked over to Khan, who merely took a step back from the duo before he turned his full attention to her. "I hate to say it, but you are in Moscow's Metro System."

"Moscow? I've never heard of that place before."

"How the fuck do you not know where Moscow is? Have you read a geography map before?"

"Like I said, I'm from California. I don't exactly know where I am."

The man shook his head. "Well, if you want answers we'll have to go to Polis."

"Polis? Is that some sort of city?" She wondered.

"Here in the Metro, knowledge and books are a rare thing to come by. Polis is one of the last few stations in these tunnels to have really good lights and the last source of knowledge thanks to their stalkers at the Moscow State Library." The man said. "Besides, if you're from California and were captured by these people dressing up as Romans, they would want to have words with you."

The woman crossed her arms. "Why would they want words with you?"

"You were their captive and the Metro is being under attack. They'll want to know about every single detail during your captivity."

"Information about Caesar's Legion, is it that important to you."

"An entire station had to evacuate because these guys overran their defenses. Colonel Miller of the Polis Rangers would like to know about what we're up against. Would you help us?"

She grinned at the prospect. After what happened to her at Ranger Station Charlie, this would be her vengeance for an attempt to enslave her and make her one of the Legion's baby factories. "Yes. These people killed some good people, I don't mind as long as you kill them good."

* * *

Author's Note: This might be one of my weaker chapters out there. The next chapter will focus on Artyom, but that is all I'm going to say in the meantime. However, I hope you guys saw the reference.

* * *

 **TwilightScarlet** : Yeah, I decided to have that bit in there.


	16. Chapter 16: Sea of Red

It was a surprise to learn that Angelique had helped Cass recover from her wounds through a strange device called a Stimpack. The closest Artyom had to that was his medkits, but he was told that unlike his medicine, Stimpacks were able to help people recover faster than usual. Some were given to him and Pavel, the Red Line soldier. If stalkers back in the Metro had their hands on this, less people would die from their wounds and actually recover from. He needed to keep a few and learn about how to reproduce something so useful in the Metro.

The party walked east of Novac, only to find a checkpoint filled with NCR troopers and a single Ranger taking positions behind a wall of sandbags. Veronica was quick to comment on them. "Why does the NCR have a checkpoint like that?"

Then Cass was quick to reply. "I don't know, but they don't set up checkpoints for no reason."

"How do you know that?"

"Ever been to the Mojave Outpost? I know this because a bunch of caravans were not given permission to pass through." She answered.

"You're an NCR caravaner. Wow, you must have seen plenty of sights." The robbed girl expressed her curiosity about her.

As they continued on in their conversation, Artyom felt a tap on his shoulder, only to find the Red Line soldier smiling to him. "Hey, I have a few questions, but who are the NCR?" He whispered to him.

The stalker glanced over to his companions before starting. "They're one of the major powers here like Hansa back home."

Soon, he nodded his head at understanding what Artyom stated. "Ah, so why are they here?"

"They're expanding." Replied Cass. "At the moment, President Kimbell's foreign policy is to annex as much territory they can find. Turns out it's a bad idea when you meet guys like Caesar's Legion."

"Caesar's Legion?" Pavel asked.

"Similar to Nazis." Artyom replied.

"Never thought I would end up meeting people other than those crazed fucks."

Angelique laughed.

"What's so funny?"

The person in charge of the small expedition glanced over her shoulder. "Thankfully, you're a guy. Unlike me, you actually have a chance to accept their supposed values since you don't have any NCR markings on you. Girls like me are viewed to be their baby factories."

"Reminds me a lot about the Fourth Reich." Pavel commented.

"Really? Do tell. I appreciate something to talk about before we reach the checkpoint."

"In the Nazi stations, men and women are promoted to essentially fuck each other so they can produce pure humans and sterilize those who supposedly have corrupted genes."

That last bit was enough for the Courier to stop. "Wait, what is this about corrupted genes?"

"Nazis are assholes in the Metro because if you don't fit their version of humanity, you take a bullet to the brain." Pavel answered. "Anyone who isn't Russian or doesn't fit their criteria is to be killed or used for something else."

"Shit and I thought the Legion was bad. I know they put people on crosses and leave them out to die in the drought. If it's not dehydration, the animals will kill the poor people hanged up there."

"Better than what I heard on the frontlines."

When the five travelers arrived at the checkpoint, Artyom silently observed as an NCR Ranger stepped away from the wall of sandbags to confront them. Then he raised his hand and it was enough to tell them to stop. "If you prospectors plan on going through, you'll have to find another route." He said.

Angelique stepped forward to speak. "Excuse me, but what's going on, Mr. Ranger?"

It appeared she had caught his full attention. "It's Ranger Milo to you, prospector. The Legion has taken the town of Nelson and I wouldn't recommend going through here if you know what is good for you."

The caravaner joined the conversation. "I thought the NCR controlled Nelson."

"We used to, but the garrison was caught off-guard when the Legion made a breakthrough." Milo explained. "Those that weren't killed are now put on crosses. Now start going unless you're going to help."

"Help?" Cass wondered. "Help you with what?"

"Mercy killing. Those troopers are being hung out to die in the sun and god knows if the birds start picking on them."

"Damn." Pavel commented. "That is certainly not a way to go."

"That we can both agree on; however, the reason why I'm asking is because none of the troopers here can shoot for shit. I don't want the prisoners to go through the agony of being shot so many times before someone gets it right."

Angelique turned around and spoke. "Alright everyone, let's get out of here then."

Artyom watched as Pavel stopped her with his hand. "No." He replied.

"Pavel what are you doing?" Veronica wondered. "It's not like we can do anything."

"Actually, we can." He stated.

Ranger Milo crossed his arms with his eyebrows raised. "You're willing to help?"

Then he nodded his head. "I'm planning on rescuing them."

Then he scoffed at the mere solution presented. "That's suicide."

Silence came.

"You're not kidding, aren't you?"

Pavel stared at him. "Back where, I'm from. I rescue people from prison camps in order to keep them from execution. I think I can apply the same for those men."

Milo shook his head. "The Legion has guard dogs and sentries on standby. Hell, I don't think you'll get past the first patrol."

"I've dealt with situations worse than this."

It was strange watching these people simply disregard human life as another casualty in this cruel world that survived the apocalypse. Yet, Artyom was watching a soldier of the Red Line simply defy it's laws of survival in this part of the world.

"I'll make sure they'll live."

Perhaps, there is something to gain from this experience? "I'll accompany him." Artyom stated.

Then Cass was quick to look at him. "Are you really going with this?" She demanded. "You're going into a camp full of soldiers. You think you can play hero?"

"No, but it's the right thing to do." He answered. "Perhaps we'll distract the Legion long enough for you three to bypass their camp."

Veronica expressed her surprise. "So, Pavel and you are going to be the sacrificial lambs to help us get by? I could see that working."

Angelique pulled out a strange-looking weapon out from her backpack. "I like it, but I think you're going to need some additional fire power. Here's my plasma gun, you're going to need it. Don't forget this for ammo." Along came with strange-looking pieces that seemed to connect with one part of the gun.

When Artyom was handed the strange weapon, he inspected it with curiosity.

"If you're a good shot, try not to hit the NCR troopers. It tends to turn things into goo." She added.

"It's a weird gun."

"I know, but it should make those Legion assholes think twice before attacking two armed guys from Russia."

"So?" Milo pondered. "You guys want to try going past Nelson."

Angelique nodded her head. "Yep. There is some caps to be made and nothing is going to stop us."

"I'd accompany you, but until I get orders to raid the camp I'll have to stay. I wish you prospectors good luck." Then he turned around and glanced over at the dozen of troopers at their post. "Let them through, they all have a suicide wish." He ordered.

When the five passed by, some of the troopers wished them luck while others simply watched with horror. Artyom could feel their fear for his group's safety and they had a right to be so. To helplessly watch as five people try to get past the camp. While he inspected this so-called plasma gun, he heard one of the members speak.

The robbed girl commented on the current situation. "Are you sure it's okay for all of us to part into two groups. None of us aren't exactly armed. I mean, I got a power fist and all, but it's not much compared to the load of guns Artyom has."

"Don't worry, girly." Angelique assured her. "I got more weapons in my backpack just in case."

While those two continued their conversation, Artyom noted that Cass still carried his Duplet. Ever since the Courier had nicked her weapon off to some weapon merchant, she was using his weapon ever since she recovered in Novac. "Cass, I think you're going to need this." He said, taking off his belt of shotgun shells over to her."

The caravaner was surprised when given the belt, only to see the large quantity of shotgun shells ready for use. "You're giving me all of your shotgun ammo to me? You sure about that?"

"I got too many guns on my person." He replied. "Plus, you don't have your shotgun anymore. So you can have my Duplet."

"Thank you, I didn't expect you to simply hand me your gun."

"No problem, just a tip on that thing. The Duplet has two triggers, so you pull both of them if you want some extra kick on some mutant or a raider." Artyom explained.

"It's strange that I didn't have something like that on my shotgun." She commented. "Any other tips you want to share?"

There was a few more things to consider before she would end up using the weapon. "There is one. The gun has an extended barrel for extra accuracy. It has less spread, but the pellets bring concentrated firepower."

"You seem to know a your guns." She noted.

Artyom smiled at the thought. "It's something I learned after modifying some of my guns at the forgemasters."

Angelique stopped in her tracks and lowered her composure. "Alright, quiet down. We're coming over to the camp soon."

The group slowly began crawling towards the edge of a ridge, overlooking an entire town. However, Artyom could see the dozens and more soldiers clad in red armor, walking around the perimeter of remaining fence they had. Towers and defensive positions overlooking the roads into the town with strange-looking creatures walking beside some of the patrols. At the center of the town, there were three crosses with prisoners nailed to them. They almost reminded him of that cross Hunter wore with him before he left Exhibition to fight the Dark Ones.

"There is a bunker past this place, but there is barely any other way we can go through. We could head north and bypass Forlorn Hope, but I overheard that you have to go through a field of Cazadors and I don't want to deal with those things." She stated. Then she brought out a pair of binoculars from her pack and looked through its sights. "Pavel, Artyom, if you do plan on rescuing those NCR troopers, there are three guards keeping an eye on them."

"That's relieving to know." Pavel commented. "Thank god I have a silencer."

"I thought you and Artyom are going to go loud - you know… go loud."

He chuckled. "We could do that, but that should be a last resort option. Sneaking in allows us to inflict enough casualties with their guard down."

Then Veronica whispered to him. "I hate to break up the optimism, but what makes you think that their guard is down? The Legion doesn't exactly have sluggish guards like the NCR."

"Well, we're not the NCR now are we. I mean, if they expect the NCR to mercy kill their own from afar it's not really worth the effort to be on guard duty. Now if they were going to plan some sort of attack then maybe, but that Ranger doesn't seem to be preparing those men if he's asking people like us to put a bullet in their soldiers."

Angelique was quick to silence them. "Then change of plans, once you and Artyom disrupt the Legion, we'll be making are way past the camp. When you get those prisoners out meet me in the no man's land northeast of here."

"We understand." Artyom acknowledged.

"Good, Veronica, Cass, with me."

As the women departed from the two Russians, Pavel brought out his silenced sub-machine gun before glancing over to his weapons. "I see you spent enough bullets to upgrade your Bastard gun." He commented. "I haven't met most stalkers who would do that since most of them would spend on more ammo or flashy upgrades like a laser pointer."

Artyom switched out his plasma gun for his poor man's weapon. "I had to do something with all those cartridges I have in my bag." He replied. "I picked quite a few from the poor guys who didn't make it."

"Then you placed a good investment into quite an asset I say. Let's go, but stay at my back." Pavel rose from the ground as he crouched his way towards the Legion camp. "Stay away from the light and stick to the shadows."

The stalker followed after him while they slowly made their way towards the entrance, but dozens of figures were standing there with two furry creatures at their side. "They blocked the entrance."

"Don't worry, we're not going to use the front entrance." The Red Line soldier turn to the right as he made his way towards a broken opening in the fence. However, there was a small post of a Legion soldier looking out from his perch. "Shit, they got that one covered as well. Got any knives on you?"

"Yes, I'll take care of him." Artyom replied as he began to dig deep into his pockets to bring out a throwing knife.

As he moved closer to the guard post, he saw the man's head towards him. "Who goes there?" He questioned. Seconds later, a blade was struck onto his forehead.

"Good kill." Pavel commented. "Now let's save those three." He said. Then the soldier took the lead and entered the area unopposed while his silenced weapon was raised.

After Artyom removed the knife from his victim, he followed after him as they moved closer to the platform. The last time he had done something like this was when he going through a bandit checkpoint with Bourbon. Except this time, he was working alongside a communist.

"Opa, now we just need to get those guys down before anyone else notices."

Artyom noted the three guards protecting the men nailed on the cross, only to see them respond to two masked soldiers. Then he heard them speak. "Ave, true to Caesar!"

It appeared their superior was inspecting the surroundings. "Have the profligates tried to fire on them?"

"No, Decanus, the NCR has not done so." One of the guards stated.

"Strange that they haven't sent anyone to liberate them from our justice." He replied. "Carry on with your duties for I shall return."

"Yes, Decanus." The guard acknowledged.

When the Decanus and his liaison departed from their guards, Pavel noted his presence. "He has to be the garrison commander."

Curious, Artyom asked. "What should we do about him?"

"Nothing." He said. "Just get these three out of here and we'll be home free. Now get your Bastard ready, we've got a show to put on."

The Red rose from his stance as he walked towards the guards, their backs presented to him "Aim for the head and be quick."

Artyom did so as he lined the sights up to one guard's head. He felt there was something wrong, but his heart couldn't put a finger on it. Still, there was no other choice in handling that manner. When he tapped the trigger, he felt the recoil while the guard's cranium was struck with blood splattered on the sand.

The other two turned around, but the stalker and the soldier dropped in quick succession. "Good, now watch my back as I help these guys down." He whispered as he unsheathed his knife.

Doing so, he felt so vulnerable being out in the open like this. Years of living in enclosed spaces made him feel comfortable in the natural fortress made by man, but this town was beyond him. The enemy was everywhere and they could easily be alerted by a simple mistake.

A bestial growl made him realize his fear while he looked over his shoulder. One of those creatures on the patrol was here and it leaped towards him with jaws open for the kill. Artyom realized he wouldn't have enough time to bring his gun to bear.

When the four-legged creature crashed into his body, it almost felt like a railcar crushing him. As he was slammed into the wooden platform, the growls intensified as it snapped after his neck. Reaching for his knife, he stabbed the cold steel into his attacker before hearing it whimper at his attack. However, he couldn't stop there. Tossing it over, he repeated the same technique to ensure it never had a chance.

After the deed was finished, Artyom sheathed his trench knife feeling the blood stain his fingers.

"Artyom, are you alright?" Pavel wondered after he freed the last NCR trooper.

The stalker acknowledged him with a nod.

"Good, chuvak. Let's get these guys out of here."

One of the freed prisoners spoke up. "Michael doesn't look too good, we'll carry him if you cover us."

"Ok, but follow my lead."

All of the effort the duo had accomplished was gone when Artyom heard bells ringing and Legion soldiers shouting. "They have taken down the profligates! Show them retribution!"

"Fuck, I'll lead the way. Artyom, watch our backs."

Pavel and the three NCR troopers began running towards north of the town while Artyom chased after them, blindly firing back at the first responders. He feel the bullets whistle past him as he ran, but his first concern was keeping them back with enough firepower.

Turning around, he brought out the weapon Angelique handed to him as he pulled the trigger. The plasma gun charged up and produced a heated shot at the dozens of Legionnaires running towards him. As the shot landed, Artyom watched his victim literally melt before his very eyes.

Two more Legionnaires ran past their fallen comrade with spears in hand, but it was clear that they were throwing it at him. The projectiles fell short and landed on the dirt road, a blessing that their aim didn't aim true. Quickly gunned them down, but this time they dropped to the ground screaming in agony.

Before he could join Pavel in the escape, he heard gunfire from the north catching the enemy off-guard. "Fall back to the defenses!" One of them cried, firing their bolt-action rifles at the threat that beset them.

Artyom took the opportunity to join his comrade as he switched the plasma gun out for his Bastard gun.

* * *

The stalker was following the last tracks of where Pavel went while distancing himself from the town. The darkness of the night didn't help as he turned on his flashlight, only to hear the clattering of guns drawn. "Identify yourself?!" A voice cried out.

"Pavel?" Artyom pondered. "Where are you?"

"It's okay soldiers, that's my friend escaping from the Legion." After recognizing the voice was Pavel's, his flashlight found dozens of NCR troopers while the Red came up to him. "You can relax Artyom, turns out we just met a recon patrol that just so happened to be sent to probe out those Romans."

One the NCR troopers stepped forward and greeted the stalker as the light shined on him. "Not exactly, but I appreciate the effort you guys did to rescue our troopers. I never thought they'd get rescued."

"Are you the head of this group?" The stalker questioned.

"Yes, indeed. My name is Sergeant Cooper, I'm part of the Forlorn Hope garrison." He answered. "Say, what brings you two in the middle of these parts?"

"Expedition, but we decided to short cut through the Legion camp."

The sergeant raised his eyebrows. "You have balls to do something crazy like that. What's your name, kid?"

"My name is Artyom, I'm a stalker."

"Well, what you did might become the most bizarre story I have to tell in the barracks." He stated. "I wish you luck on whatever expedition you two are on. Hopefully, it's worth going through Caesar's Legion." Then glanced over to his men. "Alright troopers, let's head back and bring the news to Major Polati."

While the dozens of NCR soldiers walked to a road north of their position, Pavel made his to him and chuckled. "What do you know, we might be the craziest people in this part of the world."

"Perhaps, but we were very lucky they were around."

"Turn off your light, we don't want to get spotted." Pavel advised. "Stay close to me and let me lead the way. I have a night vision scope."

The duo walked east as the stalker noted the Red relying on his scope to see through the dark. He had heard of such equipment being used, but only for armies such as the Red Line, Fourth Reich, and Hansa. Polis Rangers also had them as well, but it was to be expected from their ranks. However, there were a select few merchants who would sell these scopes behind their backs.

"Veronica and Angelique said there was a bunker nearby so we just need to be alert and keep an eye on the details."

There was a slow beeping before them, but as they stepped closer Pavel took a step back. "Artyom, get back. I don't know what the hell that thing does."

Artyom headed his command as the beeping faded. "It looks like it has a sensor to anyone nearby. It could be a proximity mine?"

"Probably, but I don't want to find out. Let's see if we can get around it. Split up, I prefer not having to get both of us killed. You can turn on your flashlight, I don't think those guys will chase us here."

As the stalker activated his flashlight, he noted its power was fading. Bringing out his battery charger, Artyom increased the light, but also discovered what he had stumbled on. "Pavel, I think we're in a minefield."

Glancing over to Artyom, Pavel swore. "Shit, I didn't think we would become this knee deep in mines." He commented. Gunfire erupted from behind their backs as he turned around. "Shit, they're here."

"Kill them! Make sure they don't make it out."

"Fuck it, run!"

"But we're in a minefield." Artyom replied.

"I know, but I'm taking my chances."

Pavel started running, various cries of beeping could be heard from his side of the field before an eruption of explosions followed. Either the explosions were delayed and Pavel was lucky or he just wasn't complaining. Realizing there was an open and safe path, Artyom ran after him as the gunfire chased after him. "They're terrible shots that's for sure."

"Thank Lenin for that, chuvak."

When the explosions were no longer present, it was clear that Pavel crossed the field successfully. Then he noticed the communist fall forward.

"Shit, I didn't think that dip was going to be big."

As Artyom arrived near the edge, he saw the Red get up from the ground and reach a hatch at the center of this dip.

"Hurry up, Artyom. We'll be safe here."

Without hesitation, he slid from the edge and joined Pavel. He pulled the hatch open as Pavel was first to get inside.

Cries from the Legion caught his attention. "Get a grenade on them!" Half a dozen of grenades were tossed into the pit before Artyom joined his comrade and closed the hatch. Explosions followed with fragmentation tapping on the outside.

After such an encounter with a minefield and their Legion pursers, both men breathed hard as Pavel placed a hand on his shoulder. "You know, I never thought I would be doing so much running." He stated. "Hopefully, they won't come after us."

Artyom looked around and noticed a locker near the ladder to the hatch and stairs to a lower level. "The others must have gone downstairs are waiting for us." He said.

Then the Red Line soldier pointed his finger at a sight beside the stairs. "Are you sure?"

Glancing to his left, the stalker found a body laying there with blood splattered on the concrete, but the head was nowhere to be found. It was a disgusting sight.

"I've seen things happen to people's heads that most men would puke, whether it be bandits or Nazis, but this is a whole league of its own." He replied. "I have a feeling we're not the only people heading to this Sierra Madre."

"We should well-armed if that was the case, don't you think?" Artyom asked.

"You would be surprised at what people bring and call weapons. Let's go Artyom, those Legion fuckers might be trying to find a way to bust the hatch open."

When Pavel and Artyom walked downstairs, the stalker's mind heard the calls of the Dark Ones. 'It's… a… trap…'

"Huh? This door looks a bit complex, I have a feeling we should be careful. There might be something I don't want to deal with on the other side." Pavel reached out for a latch and turned it, only to see the door slide break up and slide out of their way. He began sniffing the air as he took a step back. "Something is off about the air here, do you have a gas mask?"

"Yes." He acknowledge reaching for his.

"Put it on, I have a bad feeling about this."

After Artyom covered his face and attached his air filter to his gas mask, they stepped forward with their guns drawn.

"Lead the way, my mask is cracked. I don't want to risk it getting broken." He said.

As they stepped into a hallway, Artyom looked around and noticed strange symbols with two gears, wings, and a sword pointing upwards. They stepped closer and found a strange radio broadcasting its message he had heard before, but there was something wrong here that didn't ease the stalker. Beside the various bags and weapons put together, he saw a bottle of whiskey and his Duplet.

* * *

Author's Note: How's that for a cliffhanger?


	17. Chapter 17: Ghost Town

_You've heard of the Sierra Madre Casino. We all have, the legends, the curses. Foolishness about it lying in the City of the Dead, buried underneath a blood-red cloud. A bright, shining monument luring treasure hunters to their doom. The world's most famous stars and entertainers were invited to its Grand Opening. An invitation was a sign of… exclusiveness. The opening was supposed to symbolize a road to a brighter future, not just for the world… but for all who came to its doors. A chance for anyone to begin again. Except - the Sierra Madre never opened. The war froze it in time, like a big flashbulb going off. The Grand Opening - one big ending for humanity. It's still out there, in the wastes, preserved, Just waiting for someone to crack it open. That's not the hard part. It's letting go._

Artyom had lost track of time ever since he and Pavel departed from that bunker. Under the secret guidance of the Dark Ones, he led the way while keeping his companion in the dark about how he truly knew the way. If he did tell Pavel, there was a chance that the communist soldier wouldn't be so merciful. There was a possibility he might see reason, but the stalker knew better than to take such chances. As he once read in a book a long time ago, what could go wrong will go wrong.

On their long trek to find their missing friends, Pavel had raised concerns that they could abandoned this quest to save them, but Artyom staunchly remembered how much knowledge Angelique had. If she was willing to tell him about such wealth, she deserved to be rescued. Even in another land, trust was a commodity rare to come in the Metro and the Mojave.

The Russians breathed hard as they walked on the road up to the mountain. The weight of carrying the belongings of their friends was a burden, but should they find them the burden wouldn't be much of an issue. With each step, the young man felt a burning sensation in his feet as his legs struggled to continue up the road. Most would have given up, but he recalled the memories of escaping nosalises with Bourbon on their way to Prospekt Mira.

A familiar voice of the Dark One's consciousness whispered into his mind. 'You're here… be ready…'

Artyom looked ahead, only to see buildings at the top of a mountain. The Metro had prepared him for climbing through buildings of a city, but to climb a mountain was entirely different. It was strange that once upon a time climbing mountains was once an activity to enjoy before the war. Those times had to be strange if that was normal. "Pavel, let's take some rest. We're almost there."

Glancing over his shoulder, the Red Line soldier planted his hands on his knees, breathing hard after the long travel. "I know a good communist doesn't believe in anything, but god-damn this is agonizing!" Pavel moaned. "Give me an hour, chuvak. I need to get my breath."

Then the voice of the Dark Ones returned. 'That place… there are those who do not realize that they are dead… stay vigilant… they will hunt you…'

It almost reminded the stalker about his first journey into the Dead City after he and Bourbon were cut off. That one apartment where he once saw the gazes of children staring back at him when he disturbed their rooms. If he was given a thousand years, nothing will ever make him forget that moment in his life. Now he was given a warning by the Dark Ones about this place, Artyom mentally prepared himself for the worst. If what it said was true then he had to be ready.

If he walked through those gates, there might be a chance he wouldn't leave them.

* * *

"Wake up! Cass, wake up!" The caravanner opened her eyes. Ever since she had been knocked out in that bunker the woman knew better that it wasn't whiskey that put her to sleep.

After sitting up from the dry and dirty ground, she took a look at her surroundings to find herself in a strange town with a strange shade of red covering the scenery. Then she took a glance at her person, none of her belongings were there, including Artyom's shotgun. Yet, she felt her chest lighter than before. Cass placed a hand on her chest, only to learn that her pendant was gone. She froze with fear, it was the closest thing she had to a heirloom. She began to see if the pendant necklace was still there around her neck, but her fingers were met with a steel feeling.

There was a collar around her neck.

A familiar and relieving sight came to her, but she also had a collar around her neck as well. "Thank god, I thought you were a goner." It was strange to find herself in the same company of the thief who stole her belongings, but now that they were both in bondage they were now in the shit together.

"Angelique, I didn't think I would ever be this happy to see you."

The Courier rolled her eyes. "You still holding that against me?"

"Yeah, cause how can I forget how you ran off with my things." Strange, where was that girl in the robes? "Hey, where is that other girl. I thought she was with us?"

A voice spoke up from behind their backs. "I know where Veronica is, but first we must… introduce ourselves." It was that of an old man.

Cass and Angelique rose from the ground as they found themselves beside a fountain. However, a hologram image of an old weary man was staring back at them. "You've finally regained consciousness, good. It would have been problematic if they got to you first before both of you woke up. Now listen and follow. Play stupid or say no, I'll make sure those collars will remove any doubts you have." He said.

"Who the hell are you?" The Courier demanded. "Where did you take Veronica?"

"You are in no position to demand, but I suppose an introduction is required for… further cooperation." The hologram of the old man simply looked down on them. "I am Father Elijah and that is all you will know about me. As for the Brotherhood Scribe, she is currently safe and far from where you are."

"You're from the Brotherhood of Steel?" Cass wondered. "I thought the NCR destroyed your entire group back at Helios One." She said.

The duo could hear the growl from Elijah's mouth. "The NCR - children who don't realize they will cleaned off the Earth. They think I'm dead, good, they won't know when it will come. However, I am no longer part of the Brotherhood of Steel." He added. "Those fools don't realize how much potential was lost with the technology I had discovered. Even though they are my brothers, they must be cleaned as well."

"I take that you're not with the Brotherhood anymore?"

"Yes, I'm no longer one of them, but enough talking about me and more about the building looking down on you." They both looked up and saw the menacing shadow cast in the clouds of red clouds. "That is the Sierra Madre and I know that all three of you came here in search of its treasure."

"Why did you put collars on us? So we don't get the treasure before you do?"

The old man scoffed at the caravaneer's response. "Yes… and no. The Sierra Madre Casino is very complicated at getting into. Did you simply think I wanted to put collars on both of you? No. However, those who were here before didn't comply and they killed one-another because of their greed. The collars help alleviate that issue to form a team and force them to… cooperate."

Angelique took the lead in asking questions. "Forming a team to do what? Break into the casino?"

"Yes. That is just what you are about to do." Elijah replied. "Follow my instructions carefully and your necks might be released from their grip. Ignore me-"

"Our heads blow up. You don't have to describe that part to us."

For some strange reason, Cass felt that the man was smiling despite the still hologram image presented. "Good, find the other collars and bring them to the fountain. Once they're here, we'll proceed to the next tasks at hand. However, do be careful. The inhabitants will do everything they can to kill you."

"The inhabitants? You mean there are people living in this hell-hole."

"The 'living' part is up for debate, but everyone calls them ghost people. It appears they were once construction workers of the casino and are now lurking around every corner looking for a victim."

"Damn." Cass swore. "We are literally in a haunted place."

"Indeed. I should also warn both of you that there are radio devices around the surrounding areas that might trigger your collars."

"What do you want us to do? Didn't you think of this before you put the collars on us."

"Yes, it's an issue I think both of you can contend. Avoid them if you must, but if you could see the opportunity to find the source, destroy it. One less thing for you to worry about."

Then Angelique pointed to a blue holographic image of a woman standing atop the fountain. "Who is she?"

"Ah, the woman on the fountain. She was once a famous person back during her time. Don't fret about it, she's dead. Remember, find the others and bring them to the fountain. You're Pip-Boy should be able to locate them." Soon the hologram disappeared as the two women found themselves alone with one-another.

"Alright, let's go." The Courier began as she walked up to the fountain and found a strange rifle there. "What the hell is this thing?" She pondered.

"Angelique, are you really going with this?" The caravanner questioned.

"Yeah, I'm not going to get my head blown off by that maniac." She answered.

"Don't you think that he'll kill us anyway once he finds a way into the casino?"

The woman in the Vault 13 jumpsuit lowered her head. "I've survived taking a bullet to the head. I think we'll get through this, one step at a time. Besides, I think I still need to live so that the guy who shot gets a piece of my mind." Then she chuckled. "I don't mean that literally."

Once the worry was over, the first thing on Cass's mind was the girl who accompanied them. "Veronica, that girl was part of the Brotherhood of Steel."

"Maybe, if this Elijah guy is anything to goby." Angelique commented as she loaded her weapon with whatever ammo was available. "Once this is over, we can start asking questions why she never told us in the first place."

* * *

Ever since she woke up, Veronica found herself stuck in an isolated room with a simple bed and a desk lamp. The only entrance to the outside was a steel door, but it appeared that it could only be opened from the outside. She looked around for her powerfist, but with a room stripped down to the bones it was best to simply think she lost it.

The scribe walked up to the door, only to see a small vision slit of a dark-lit hallway with another steel door on the other side. Where was she?

She was quickly greeted by a strange green light that appeared behind her back. Turning around, the scribe saw a hologram of someone she hadn't seen in a very long time. Yet, it was not the image that caught her off-guard, but the voice. "It has been a long time, Veronica. I would have thought you would be swept away by the NCR, but I've taught you enough for you to succeed this far."

The girl froze up in her room. Was this truly Father Elijah, the man that took her in and taught her, the one who separated her from her love? It seemed impossible that he could have survived Helios One. "Father Elijah, is that really you?"

Veronica heard a slight chuckle from the old man. "The one and only."

"Why am I here? Where am I?" She wondered.

"You are close… close the the Sierra Madre. I know I couldn't meet you in person, but I'm trying to find a way to get inside."

"You're getting into the casino as well? What a coincidence. I was with a group of people who were searching for it as well. I wouldn't call them friends, but they're better company than a squad of NCR troopers."

"Funny, I am seeing to it that you don't have to worry about them. We're… helping one-another getting into the lobby." He added.

"Father Elijah, this is great news that you're alive and doing well. Maybe we should get the Brotherhood and break the Sierra Madre Casino?"

An angry rant from the old man occurred. "No! Those fools would squander the technology like children, just like the NCR. I intend to clean the slate, but they would interfere."

She had heard of clean the slate before, but hearing it again did little to comfort the scribe. "What do you mean by that?"

"Clean the Mojave of any human interference. Begin again and bring the potential of any lost technology to light."

His intent was clear and there was no point in denying it. "What you are considering is murder?"

"Murder? My dear Veronica, this is changing the world once more. If you had listened to my lessons instead of going off with that girl, you would understand. The Brotherhood needs to be saved and finding a way to rid of those ants - the NCR." He explained. "Their citizens have the Mojave to themselves because of our blood, but should we rid them to the way it was before."

"That's wrong. You're throwing away people's lives for us to prosper. How can you consider that an option?" She demanded.

"Morality, one of humanity's base instincts. Perhaps I should remove it to make you understand."

"Why are you like this?"

"The NCR have technology that shouldn't be theirs, it was ours for the taking. If I had more time they would fear us. Breaking into the Sierra Madre Casino would see to that."

Veronica knew he was unstable, but this was far worse than she last met him. "Father Elijah, I want to leave."

She could hear him sigh. "I'm afraid that won't happen. You'll be safe here, but away from interfering with your company." Then she heard his surprise. "Ah, more people to help me."

* * *

The Russians walked past the gate with his Bastard Gun ready. The eerie silence didn't comfort them as they checked the surroundings around the fountain. Many roads led deep towards this fountain. Was this the center of it all?

Contrast to the surrounding red setting, Artyom grew fascinated when he saw a blue woman standing atop of the fountain with her hand on her hip. Whoever she was, its presence irked him as it almost reminded him of seeing a ghost for the first time. Then Pavel caught his attention. "Alright chuvak, let's go find our friends and get the fuck out of here."

However, there was a problem that came to Artyom's mind. "Where do you think they are?" Then he glanced over to the communist.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, but what do you think Artyom?"

"How about you stay here with our luggage while I look for the others? Does that sound fair?"

"I don't appreciate being left out on my own in a city that's looks all creepy."

"There are weapons in that luggage, Pavel. Here, have my plasma gun if you're so afraid." The stalker slung his weapon off his shoulder and gave to him.

"I'm not afraid, I'm just thinking we wouldn't be effective if we split up." The Red Line soldier replied.

Then a thought occurred to him. There was one currency that had value in the Metro and Artyom didn't like the thought of bribing a soldier. From his pockets, he held a cartridge in his hand and handed it to the communist. "Have a cartridge. Maybe this will convince you to stay."

"You're giving me your military grade rounds?" He wondered. "Why? There isn't even a bullet merchant nearby and these don't have any value here."

"Well, I thought I could… you know, bribe you to stay."

Pavel bursted out laughing with a hand on his chest. "You really think you could bribe a good soldier of the Red Line? You have to be really low to even consider that."

"I might not return, that's why."

The smile on his face disappeared, taking the stalker's reasoning into account. "I understand. Find our companions and stay safe, comrade."

The Russians gave a respectful nod to one-another as the Artyom left the belongings from the others at the fountain before he walked into one of the streets. He turned on his flashlight as he crept into this strange place. The young man knew he was scared that he was going into the unknown, but it was just too similar when he set out on his journey to go to Polis. His boots cracked on the broken glass and crushed this strange red powder that seemed to be everywhere, nevertheless he pressed on.

Then he felt a strange feeling he wasn't alone. Three pairs of green eyes appeared from a red cloud, moving towards him. These dark menacing figures walked forth with spears in their hands. Then they screamed within their suits before charging after him.

Artyom's finger fell into place before he squeezed the trigger.


	18. Chapter 18: Reunion in Hell

Artyom ran for his life. The people he shot at should have died. Dropping them was easy, but each time he left his guard down they rose from the ground and tried to kill him despite their wounds. Were they even human anymore? The stalker stormed into a nearby building, only to find a store with dozens of canned food still left on the shelves. He could bring that back to Pavel once he escapes the danger, but such a thought didn't concerned him at the moment.

The young man jumped over the counter and hid behind it while he waited for his pursuers to stop chasing after him. Footsteps followed where he once was while the heavy breathing of their gas masks did little to comfort him while he hid from their sight. His Bastard gun was ready if they do find him, but hopefully the wouldn't have the sense to look everywhere.

On his left, he could see a silhouette of one edging near the counter, looking around with a crowbar in hand, gasping for air. For something to appear so human, they acted more like animals on a hunt rather than people. They never spoke and when they did it was always in the form of screeches behind their gas masks.

His finger reached for the trigger as he waited for fate to decide what would happen next.

Discontent with what those creatures didn't find, they began to leave the store while the Russian began to peek out from behind the counter only to find their presence was gone. It was a relief as Artyom began to pick up boxes of cram from the store's supplies before he noticed armor pieces on the shelf beside the doorway. Out of curiosity, the Russian made his way to the shelf and began to inspect such armor.

What did he find?

Swiping the dust off, he noted the apparel woven into the armor plates before he turned the armor around. On the back, he noted the word imprinted in yellow.

'Security'

Whoever once wore this was probably dead and obtaining armor in the Metro was a rarity unless he joined the militia. Even then, it was issued for those who had the best combat experience. To find such armor laying around without any strings attached was an opportunity to be taken. It was strange for Artyom to change his clothes in the open like this, where he was truly vulnerable. To feel his body exposed to the wind before slipping into the clothes before feeling the armor plates weigh on his shoulders and chest. Had he tried that on the surface of the Dead City, the radiation and the chemicals would harm his body.

When Artyom was finished changing, he placed his pouches covered his front plate while his backpack covered the words written on his back. Then he attached his belt of shotgun shells from his shoulder to his side before grabbing his Bastard gun off the ground and walked out of the store.

Alone in a town covered in red, the stalker felt disturbed at the sight. What could possibly cause all of this to happen? There was an enticing thought to explore this dreary place, but he removed such plans when Cass and Angelique needed to be rescued. Perhaps he could possibly take a look after he found them.

Artyom began to tread carefully as he walked throughout the streets with far more caution than before. Unlike the mutants he came across on the surface, he had to be far more careful with his movements. He swiped the red residue off his gas mask while some particles still remained. With the lack of sunlight on the town, the stalker inspected his watch while holding his gun. "Damn." The young man quietly swore to himself. He forgot to adjust his watch to the current time, but his opportunity to change was no longer present. After all, there was no clock to reference.

Gunfire was discharged in the distance and despite the danger of running, he wanted to hope that his companions survived after all of this time.

* * *

Angelique fired off her pistol at one of the ghost people as they tried to breach into the store. She was able to take off one of their arms before closing the door on her attackers. "Cass, do you have my holorifle ready?"

The caravanner ran up to her with her weapon before they traded at the door. Then blades began to stab through the door along with the inhuman cries of their assailants. "What are those knives made of?" Cass wondered before loading her pistol ammo into the revolver.

"Stand back, they're breaking through." She said before the duo stepped away from the door and watched the only obstacle between them and the ghost people get torn apart.

When the door broke in two after the blades had runned it through, then the first one stepped forth with its menacing green eyes. However, its head was blown off by Angelique's shot before loading the next shot in. Then two more took the place of its fallen comrade, one carrying a knife and the other carrying a polearm with a knife attached at the tip.

The duo fired their weapons as they fell atop one-another in their advance to take their victims. Despite being gunned down, some of the fallen ones rose from the bodies and still continued.

Then Angelique heard the very words she feared from Cass. "I'm out!"

It would only be a matter of time before the ghost people overrun them by their sheer determination to kill them.

The courier looked past the heads of the ghost people to see a familiar grenade she once saw at the NCRCF. The dynamite-looking grenade landed at the feets of the inhuman beings before exploding with limbs torn apart. Such power shook the building as a knife landed beside Cass before she took it to defend herself. "Bring it on, shitbags."

A ghost person with a knife ran up to her with a bestial battle cry before Cass stepped aside and cut off the arm carrying the knife. Soon, the creature fell before the others ran out of the building with their attention taken elsewhere.

Noticing the change in their behavior, Angelique cocked her next shot at the ready before peeking out from the doorway to see a lone figure gunning down the ghost people without question. She couldn't recognize him behind the gas mask, but the woman was surprised to see the familiar sight of a gun that he was carrying.

Artyom was here.

When his sub-machine gun ran out, he simply tossed it to the side and presented his makeshift double-barrelled shotgun to the inhabitants of the villa. In one blast, he sweeped an entire area full of ghost people with their bodies torn apart. There were only two more that tried to rush him, but he simply drew his revolver and gunned them down without hesitation.

The courier smiled, knowing that a friendly face had arrived. "Cass, Artyom is here." The duo ran up to meet with their separated party member as they lowered their weapons. "Artyom, what a sight for sore eyes." She said while he grabbed the Bastard gun off the ground.

There was still danger lurking about as a ghost person rose from behind his back. Out of care for the person she cheated, Angelique drew her holorifle and fired a single shot at the creature's leg. With it's limb removed, the monster was gone.

He looked at her, his eyes surprised at this development. "It was getting up. You didn't tear its limbs apart."

The stalker shrugged his shoulders. "I'm glad to see that both of you are alive." Artyom replied. "Pavel and I were searching for you."

"Now that you mention him, where is he?"

"The Red is at the fountain, protecting the rest of our gear. Your stuff is there as well."

"That's good to know, I didn't want to tell you that we barely have any ammo left." The courier stated.

He glanced over to Cass and handed her his shotgun. "Here, you'll need it more than me." Afterwards, he presented a bottle of whiskey. "I didn't forget that either."

Then she smiled. "What a gentleman, bringing a woman her booze when she needs it."

Despite the hopeful arrival of the Russians, Angelique didn't want to address the snake wrapped around her neck. Yet, his question had arrived. "You two have collars on your necks." Artyom began. "What happened while I was gone?"

Such hopefulness died away when Angelique spoke first. "We got caught in a trap and we're forced to help someone get into the Sierra Madre."

She dreaded the moment Elijah spoke from her Pip-Boy. "Indeed. It appears that the quest of rescuing you from the Sierra Madre was a foolish endeavor."

Artyom's voice hissed at the voice on her Pip-Boy. "Who are you?" He demanded.

"Lower your tone, boy. I am Elijah and your friends are helping me break into the casino. Before you make any stance of resistance, know this, I am capable of killing your compatriots before your very eyes. Consider this as a restraint into compliance." The old man's voice expressed his arrogance. "Refuse to listen, try to act stupid, or think you can get the treasure of the Sierra Madre yourself I will detonate the collars."

Angelique noticed his tense reaction to him. "Why are you doing this?"

"I will not go into such detail, but the treasure has technology far more valuable than you could imagine in a lifetime. There are things here that are useful in cleaning the slate?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"It is none of your concern." The old man replied. "What you should worry about is the fate of your friends. Comply and you'll be rewarded with the freedom of your friends."

Artyom shook his head at the hand he was dealt with. The courier couldn't blame him, he didn't know and neither did she. This Elijah, he would have to answer for what he was doing to them.

"Now, there should be some way to put on some collars to put you and your other friend into compliance as well."

He was suggesting that he take on the collar as well. No, she would not allow that. Artyom would have to serve a purpose that would be far more helpful than what Cass and herself could endure. "I have a better idea."

"A better idea than mine?" Elijah spoke in annoyance. "You dare interrupt?"

"Please, allow me to explain before you blow my collar off."

Then she heard his calm tone take over. "Very well, you have the opportunity."

Thankfully, the thought of using the stalker for this would alleviate the issues surrounding her collar. "You said that the collars can be triggered by radio devices throughout the Sierra Madre?"

"Correct."

"What if they can assist this heist of yours in case those radios prove too much of a difficulty for Cass and I to destroy." The courier said. "This way we don't lose our heads and you don't have to worry about that radio problem."

"Yes. I see." Elijah hummed to himself. "That is indeed a reasonable use of such people. I'll agree with that. However, they must comply and you will remind them. That is all. Continue finding the others."

When everything was finished, Artyom began to question. "Others? What did he mean by that?" He wondered.

"Elijah has other people wrapped in explosive collars." Cass began. "We're not the only ones here so that guy wants us to work with a few strangers to get into the casino."

"So we're looking for them as well?"

"Yeah, but those ghost people trapped us in the building and you were lucky enough to find us before we became brahmin steak."

"We should bring the news to Pavel." He replied. Then he raised a question that the courier never thought of answering. "Wait, there is only three of you. Where is that other girl?"

Angelique simply didn't know how to break the news for the Russian. "Artyom, Father Elijah knows Veronica. They're from an organization called the Brotherhood of Steel."

"The Brotherhood of Steel? I've heard of them." The Russian stated his ignorance. "Who are they?"

"They're an organization that specializing in keeping technology away from normal people like you and I. The last time the Mojave has heard of them, they were swamped by the NCR at Helios One. I didn't think there were any survivors."

"Do you both think they're working together to get inside of the Sierra Madre?"

Cass spoke up. "You heard the old shitbag." Referring to Father Elijah in a demeaning tone. "He said there was a treasure trove of technology and the Brotherhood flocks to that like Fiends on chems."

"Do you think this organization is truly here for such treasure?"

"Yeah, but they don't do subtle. They mostly do it with soldiers equipped with power armor. Which makes me wonder whether this guy has some with him?"

They shouldn't spend too much time talking in the open like this. "Artyom, show us the way back to Pavel. I have a feeling the ghost people who nearly killed me are waiting for Cass and I to back track."

"Da. I'll lead the way." Artyom acknowledge before turning away with his sub-machine gun at the ready.

While they were walking through the maze of streets and alleyways, Angelique noticed the clothes the stalker was wearing. It was completely different from the outfit he wore before, but she noted the armor plates that were covering him. She had forgotten to ask earlier, but the equipment he found made her wonder. "I hate to ask and I don't want to distract you, but where did you get that armor?"

"This? I found it in a nearby store. It had to be important enough for the former security to wear it so I took it."

"Damn, I wish I could have found something like that."

"Hopefully, we could find something like that as well."

Cass began to raise another concern. "Why are you wearing a gas mask? You know the air is not that dangerous as you think."

"I don't know." The Russian answered. "Call it a force of habit." Angelique noted he was trying to explain it them. "I just have this feeling the air around here is so toxic that I just feel the urge to keep my face away from it."

"Can't blame you. We both had to run through a cloud and I can't get that damn copper taste out of my mouth." The caravanner complained. "At least you have better air to breathe through."

"True, but I only have a supply meant for fifteen-thirty minutes and I have to use it sparingly. Less so for Pavel since his gas mask might break in these parts."

Then Cass ran to be on Artyom's side before glancing over to him. "Hey, it might be a bit selfish, but do you have some spare water. I tried drinking some from the fountain and it just doesn't agree with my stomach."

He reached for his canteen and handed it to her. "Share it with Angelique. She might be thirsty as well."

The redhead quickly uncapped the stalker's canteen and took a quick sip before handing it over to the courier. "What a damn relief to have fresh water? Say, do you have to worry about water where you're from?"

"Not really? Since it's still winter on the surface of the Metro, we let the snow melt and boil the water for drinking. The problem is trying to decontaminate snow plastered with radiation or poisonous chemicals."

The courier chuckled at the thought. Then her stomach rumbled at the lack of a meal. Ever since they had woken up in the villa, they never got a chance to get something to eat. Her eyes suddenly saw a machine she had seen earlier, but never had the opportunity to check out. "Hold up, let me see something."

When the group stopped, the young woman began to inspect the strange vending machine with her own eyes. Whatever this was, it didn't accept pre-war money, but a different currency. Yet, she didn't know what kind of currency she would be searching for.

To her surprise, she heard Father Elijah voice from her Pip-Boy. "That, my dear, are the Sierra Madre's vending machines. Isn't it a marvelous sight. So much potential these pinnacle machines contain."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Cass commented.

"Let me explain it to your simple minds. These vending machines are capable of giving you anything you need and want as long as you have the Sierra Madre chips to spend them. As for those, they're scattered throughout the villa as you go." He finished explaining. "Try collecting as much as you can so you don't have to worry about the lack of supplies. There are codes for additional items, but you will have to find them on your own."

A curious Artyom caught Angelique's attention. "So I have a feeling we're going to be relying on these things to survive? That means all of the bottlecaps that we've collected have no value in this place."

"I think that is the point of this place. It was meant to be an exclusive resort for the wealthy and that meant an exclusiveness in their own currency."

"That sounds too much of a hassle, in my opinion."

"I agree, but we'll have to make do with what we've got."

Then Cass brought the conversation back to the vending machine. "Then that brings a question. Do we have any chips to spend on these things?"

That was such a disappointment for Angelique. She had every opportunity to collect the chips of the Sierra Madre stock up on a valuable currency around these parts. Yet, her ignorance prevented the use of such a machine sitting underneath the shade of the building. The pangs in her stomach did little to make her disappointment better as she lowered her head. "Damn it, I'm hungry."

Artyom was quick to ease her pain. "Let's go, we shouldn't be too far from the fountain. Pavel is waiting for us there, along with some food." He turned away from such an advanced machine as Cass followed after him.

Then the courier turned away and followed the stalker through another network of housing just to reach the center of the villa.

* * *

The Red Line Major was very disturbed with his surroundings. The only noise he could hear was the sound of gunshots and screaming in the distance. He closely tightened his grip on his silenced weapon before looking over his shoulder. The red water disturbed him and thoughts of drinking out of it did little to comfort him as it could possibly kill him. Although he had enough firepower with him, Pavel's loneliness made him wonder if that stalker died trying to find the women.

His eyes returned to the fountain just to ignore the boredom he had to endure after all of this time. Although this place had good air, Pavel missed being underneath the familiar sky of the Dead City. At least Moscow felt like a good place to be home.

Here, someone had screwed up with the ecosystem and had a fetish with the color red.

The colors of a good communist was red, but even this was too much for the major's liking. Hopefully, things will get better from here.

His eyes looked through the waters of the fountain, only to see golden chips in the water. Although his beliefs told him that everyone would be given an equal share in the Metro, perhaps he could have something to himself while everyone else followed the rules. It's not like Korbut would be looking over his shoulder at every turn.

Pavel's head perked up when he heard his name spoken nearby. "Pavel! Are you still alive?!"

What kind of question was Artyom making? That was a stupid. "Yes, I'm still here guarding your shit."

Out of the corner of his eye, three figures walked out from an alleyway as the communist recognized the familiar Russian gas mask on the stalker, but Pavel recognized the two women he was in the company before this place. The blonde in the blue jumpsuit sighed in relief. "Finally, a familiar face. It's good to see that our chances of survival increased."

"Alright, go check your stuff while I go check up with him." Artyom said before standing beside the Red with the fountain behind their backs. "How was your vigilant watch while I was away?"

He chuckled. "Allow me to be honest that as much as I am a staunch communist, it was scary. I'm no superstitious person, but I got to ask if someone met something along the way."

Cass was quick to reply. "We did, they're called ghost people. Apparently they used to be former construction workers and got trapped in their suits. Now they run around trying to kill you with everything they got."

"Ghost people? That sounds stupid."

"Come back to me when you one of those fuckers down before you see them come back up."

Then he glanced over to Artyom. "She's messing around, right?"

Artyom sighed from behind his gas mask. "I'm afraid she is right. Fought them myself and found out that they're very tough to kill."

"Shit, we should leave this place right now."

"Can't, we're stuck here."

"Really? How so? I don't see a problem."

"An old guy put bomb collars on Cass and Angelique's neck." The stalker explained. "They can't leave the place unless they want their heads to explode. Now you and I are both stuck helping these two out until that moment comes."

"What the fuck have I gotten myself into?" The Red Line major complained.

Angelique spoke. "Hello guys, but we can still hear you. Just because we have these bomb collars on doesn't mean we're deaf."

"So, what is the first thing we need to do to get out of this place?"

"Simple, find the others." Then she walked up to him and presented her Pip-Boy. "My map can track their collars as well. Let's begin by taking this route…"

* * *

Author's Note: Apologies for the long wait, but I was procrastinating for quite some time. Plus, I'm trying to get a refresher on the Dead Money DLC as well. I know guys like Oxhorn exist on the internet, but I tend to have a better understanding when I do things myself.

* * *

 **Sabere Commander** : I'm crossposting this story on other sites and I feel that leaving stuff like the side stories and the NCR reports out would make this site feel left the abrupt changes in-between along with the criticism, I'm not changing it. As for the matter about the pacing of the story, it might seem short and somewhat too quick, but I'm also appealing to my viewers on SpaceBattles as they don't have the time to read through long chapters while they also have outside matters to handle.


	19. Chapter 19: Open Negotations

Representatives from around the Metro had arrived in Polis. From the Nazis of the Fourth Reich to the Communists of the Red Line, even the independent stations were included in this meeting at the hospitality of the Council. Members from such distinguished groups showed their distrust to their known enemies, but Colonel Miller stood up at the podium and caught their full attention. "People of the Metro, it is a great honor to speak in this great Council. However, an external threat from outside Moscow have threaten the last remains of humanity here in Russia."

The colonel paused for a moment, only to see the gaze of Secretary General Moskvin of the Red Line and the Fuhrer Yevgyeniy Petrovich of the Fourth Reich from their respective stands.

"It is normal to be comfortable with your neighbors, familiar with your enemies, but the situation has changed. We, the survivors of the great nuclear war, are under attack by an external threat." Everyone in Polis could hear the conference and Miller knew that. So he had to chose his words carefully. "We are here today, because it threatens the safety of everyone who has endured these harsh decades, but that is not all. I am here to inform all of you that we must stand together as one people against those who would dare destroy that last bastions of human civilization in the Metro."

Secretary General Moskvin's expression did not seem to be convinced by the colonel's words. "I do not believe it." He stated in a firm tone. "You must have been smoking those mushrooms if you believe someone was able to contact us outside of the Metro. What evidence can you prove that we're being invaded? If the case was true we would have received a massive influx of refugees or alerted by normal means of communication."

"Secretary General, you must understand that news travels slowly in the Metro. You, the Fuhrer, and I know this. Besides, we have evidence to prove this."

Moskvin crossed his arms. "Then enlighten me, colonel."

Miller did his best to keep himself from smiling as he looked over his head to see two Polis guardsmen standing near a covered projector. "Show them the photos we were able to get." Without question, the two soldiers uncapped the projector as it displayed an image of a sub-machine gun, one that used the ten millimeter caliber.

"What is that gun?"

"One of our Polis investigators had managed to take some limited photos of the equipment and prisoners that we were attacked by. What you're seeing is an SMG that apparently uses 10mm rounds. I don't know about you, but such caliber was not mainstream in Russia before the bombs."

Then the Fuhrer spoke. "I've received such reports come across my desk of such weapons. I thought it was developed by some independant forgemaster."

"Even then, we would have known by now. Forgemasters and ammo exchangers would bring it out to the public for stalkers to use. Upon closer inspection, we've discovered that these guns have serial numbers and originate from the United States."

Yet, Moskvin remained unconvinced. "This doesn't mean the Metro as a whole is under attack by this so-called external threat you seem to be so vague about. There have better be more than these trinkets to say otherwise."

"Don't worry, sir. We have prisoners that we've captured from the Northern Territory before the survivors of Exhibition escaped." He looked at the projector and saw the image of the sub-machine gun change to a man sitting in chair. In the background, a Polis guardsman was standing behind the prisoner whose appearance consisted of a red shirt and a dark-colored skirt. "Here is a picture of one of their soldiers." Then his eyes noted the two guardsmen behind the projector. "Play the recording."

One of them walked over to a tape recorder beside the projector and pressed the play button. Then he increased the volume of the tape. The room fell silent at the command of the guards to allow the tape to do its work.

A tired man's voice spoke. "Subject is a non-Russian. He was captured by the former Exhibition home guard and transferred over to Polis hands for interrogation at Riga."

There was another voice in the recording that spoke up. It was unmistakably English, the American kind. "Save your words old man, the Legion will come here and conquer your tribe. Consider it an honor that I am Caesar's messenger."

"What is your name?" The interrogator asked.

"I am Decanus Janus, Prime Legionary of my lord. You best remember it."

"What is your mission?"

"We are here to bring you to the fold of Caesar's Legion. Those who accept shall be brought to the fold, those who resist will be put into permanent servitude for our great cause."

"Where are you coming from?"

The man chuckled. "You should know better than to ask me that question. I will not answer."

"I knew this would happen." There was a small pause in the room. "Hold him down, we will make him talk. Interrogation reports will occur after subject is willing to divulge information."

The tape recording continued to play before the next section.

"Subject has revealed that his arrival to the Metro is not a normal one. He explains that they're using anomalies to arrive in force. However, it's so random to locate where they're rallying their forces. Thankfully, the subject mentions that the Legion's territory is located in the United States in the state of Arizona. This subject's claims he's from a detachment of Caesar's army that is currently stationed on the east side of the Hoover Dam. Will obtain more from subject."

After the interrogation was over, Colonel Miller returned his full attention to the leaders at the conference. "This is what we're facing, gentlemen. These are not mutants, but an entire nation willing to destroy us despite our endurance to the end of the world. As the head of the Spartan Order, I ask of you to join us in this war against the Legion."

Moskvin spoke up as his hands remained behind his back. "Why should we waste so much resources and manpower simply to fight back when could fight a defensive war against the Legion. This is our territory."

"Not necessarily. The Metro as a whole is mostly unknown and some stations are weaker than others. We cannot lose a single inch of ground on the defense if we barely know our own territory. Hell, the tunnel trash know more about the Metro than we do ourselves." Miller stated. "If we bring the fight to the Legion we may save it from destruction."

"I understand, but what about the defense of our stations?" The secretary general wondered. "We simply cannot allow our people to be at the mercy of mutants…" He then pointed at the Fuhrer. "...and I will die than trust the Nazis."

Such offence provoked the Nazi leader. "No wonder you're the leader of the subhumans. Your little brains don't realize the magnitude that the entire Metro is at risk. Perhaps the radiation has fried your brains as well."

"At least my soldiers don't walk into stations and open fire on innocent people because they're head size a few millimeters short. Maybe your compensating for your wife."

Miller could see the anger in their faces thanks to their petty insults, but this needed to stop. They cannot waste their time with such nonsense when any invasion could occur anytime. "Order!" Little did he know, he smashed his hand into the podium. "This petty bickering has to stop. We can't be doing this when both of your citizens are at risk."

"The Spartan colonel is right, but where could we begin against such an enemy?" Moskvin asked.

"One step at time, Secretary General. I request that both you and Fuhrer Yevgeniy cease all field operations on the frontlines. Would that be sufficient?"

"Yes, I can do that."

"Likewise, for the sake of the Metro." The Fuhrer acknowledged.

"Meeting adjourned, we will return after the break." The colonel stated. As the conference was put on hold, Miller stepped down from the podium and made his way towards the break room, only to be met by the Polis Quartermaster. "Kuzmich, what brings you here?"

The bald soldier eyes appeared tired, but his line of work was very stressful to say the least. "Colonel, I have some news for you. Do you know anyone by the name of Bourbon?"

"Yes. He was a stalker that fought alongside my Rangers at the tunnel towards Exhibition. Does he have something important?"

"More like someone important."

"Do tell. I'm going to get a drink." He lead the way into the room and made his way towards the water dispenser on the other side.

"Well, he encountered the Legion on a Hansa train."

"Damn, they're getting brave if they're resorting to that." Then he grabbed a small metal cup beside him. "Anything else."

"Yeah, apparently he discovered someone who was their prisoner about to be enslaved. Get this, she was one of their enemies called the New California Republic."

Colonel Miller paused before he took a sip from his cup. "I have a feeling things are about to get weird by the time you give me more."

"Khan was there as well. You and I know him?"

"Shit. What did he want? Does he have more philosophical advice to bring to us?"

Kuzmich shook his head. "No sir. He found a way to find the origins of the attacks."

All he could do was smile. "For once, he brings some good news."

"He also said he'll discuss it into detail once you meet with him? Apparently, he also discovered 'visitors' when he found it."

"When did you get this information?" Miller wondered. "Just a few moments ago. Khan, Bourbon, and their foreign friend are currently held up by Captain Krasnov."

"Okay, inform the Council to change their speaker. I have to take care of this."

"Understood, I'll inform the civilian and military council members." Then the quartermaster left the break room, leaving the colonel all by himself.

The man began thinking about the old traveler of the Metro. He always had the loyalty to defend the last bastion of human civilization, but there was always a strange vibe from the man. He couldn't put his finger on it, but Khan was just a stranger with unknown motives. Yet, his appearance and arrival was always a strange omen that something drastic is about to occur in the future. Miller accepted that he wouldn't know why, but he just can't stop thinking about the matter.

Still, the old man had his uses when needed to be. Of course, he would charm his Rangers with his mysticism and philosophy about the world. Had the world just changed so much for him that there was no point in trying to fight for the one they just left?

After finishing his cup of water, he tossed it aside and began to make his way to meet with him. They were going to have a long conversation.

* * *

Bourbon walked away from the Polis merchant with a new assault rifle after he had given his to Artyom. The 'Kalash 2012', it was supposed to replace the older models of Kalashnikovs, but it never got to see the day. Instead, it became one of the iconic weapons of the Rangers as they were one of the few organizations that held the largest stockpile compared to everyone else.

Walking out of the merchant room, he found Stella sitting in her chair while a young lad from another arriving group walked up to chat with her. "Hey miss, what are you doing all by yourself? Perhaps you could use some company."

The woman glanced up to him, but was unimpressed with his act. "Kid, you're better off if you don't piss me off."

The stalker made his way over to her as the young man took notice of his appearance. "Hey kid, unless you're a stalker, scram." Without a question, he walked away to his group and kept to himself. When he sat beside her, he pulled out a small can and handed it over to her. "Do want some?"

Stella glanced over to him. "What is it?"

"It's a can of shrimp, Venice has a good record with selling seafood from their station." He said.

"You said that you were a stalker, what did you mean by that?"

He chuckled. "I forgot that you're not from around here. Stalking is a profession in the Metro. Crazy bastards who have the guts to travel to the surface and come back with whatever they could find."

"Wouldn't that mean that you're one of those crazy bastards?" Stella wondered.

"It used to be my profession, but I've been traveling throughout the Metro just trying not to get myself killed by bandits, Hanza loan sharks, or the mutants themselves."

"So where did the old guy go?"

"Khan? Apparently he's affiliated with the Polis Rangers. If that is the case, he should be talking with the colonel."

"I've heard." Then she looked around as she saw trolleys of people arrive into the station before soldiers asked them for passports. "I've got to ask, but what is so special about this place?"

"Polis is also situated underneath the General Staff of the Armed Forces." Bourbon explained. "When the bombs fell twenty years ago, the survivors came down here along with the important civilian members to join them."

Stella appeared surprised as she turned her head towards him. "Twenty years? You must be crazy?"

"Crazy? It's common knowledge around these parts. Why is that?"

"What year is it?"

"It's 2033."

The woman began to express her distress. "No, that can't be. That can't be."

Curious, Bourbon began to ask. "Okay, what's the problem with the year that you think you're from."

"When I was captured by the Legion, the year was 2281. That is roughly two-hundred years after the bombs fell."

Now that seemed far-fetched, but seeing degenerates resembling Romans told him otherwise. He had to take everything she said with a grain of salt. "Either everyone in the Metro is drug or on mushrooms or you're on drugs, because that is impossible."

"No, it's true." Stella firmly stated. "You're the one who is in the wrong here."

The defensive stance she held managed to garner the attention of others at the platform. "Calm down, you don't want to cause a commotion."

The duo stopped their conversation when they heard soldiers acknowledging a superior whose clicking books made everyone in the platform look for the man. "Colonel on deck!"

As each step got closer, Bourbon recognized the familiar identity of Colonel Miller with Khan following him. Then he was quick to smile. "Bourbon, it's good to see that you survived your encounter." His attention looked over to the woman beside him. "You must be that American woman that Khan spoke of."

The woman crossed her arms. "What of it? I've been waiting for something interesting to happen."

"My apologies, but Polis is in a middle of a conference. We're trying to get the Nazis and the Communists to work together to fight the Legion. I'm told you're familiar with them."

"Of course I'm familiar with them, they attacked my post and enslaved me." Then she glanced over to Bourbon. "If he wasn't there, they'd probably kill me to spite those train guys."

"That is good to know, but both of you better come with me. We'll need whatever information you have on the Legion to help us."

"I understand, I'll do what I can to help."

Soon the group began to make their way off the platform as they went deeper into the station.

* * *

Author's Note: I finally got someone from the Fallout universe to have a perspective on the Metro universe while also addressing that year discrepancies between the two universes.

* * *

 **Mandalore the Freedom** : Yes, the Sierra Madre tests the endurance of human nature and we will see if it would lead to something.


	20. Chapter 20: A Bullet for a Life

The group of four walked into an open plaza with a fountain in at the center. A single ghost person was lurking all by itself before it turned its gaze upon the newcomers. It barely had a chance to fight when Cass blew the inhabitant into a green mist with few limbs that survived the carnage. "It feels so good to finally shoot these shitbags." The caravanner commented.

Yet, Artyom had to contain her enthusiasm. "Don't get too happy with that shotgun. I don't have that many shotgun shells with me." He answered before taking his gas mask off. When he finally had the courage to expose himself to the cloud, he could feel the taste of copper before his nose took in the whiffs of sulfur. "I have to get used to that."

"Don't worry about it."

Angelique looked around, ignoring the fountain full of Sierra Madre chips before their friendly communist immediately began picking at the chips. The sight was filled with irony with Pavel greedily amassing the group's only source of wealth in this place. While there was some concern it might get out of hand, she ignored it and allowed him to scavenge whatever he could find.

Then the courier grabbed everyone's attention as she proceeded past the fountain and walked directly towards the door. "Here it is, the police station. Our first person is inside." She said. When she opened the door, the others followed after her with Pavel's chips jingling in his pouch.

Once inside, Artyom's eyes explored the immediate area. There were many empty desks and chairs, perhaps the policemen of the day had their own personal work space before the bombs fell. Upon looking on one desk, the stalker noted the computer device that was still working after all these years of disrepair.

Angelique was quick to occupy the chair in front of the computer as Pavel began exploring on his own. "Look around he might be around here somewhere, but don't stray too far, understand?"

Pavel chuckled as he was the first to step forward. "Understood, shout if you need anything." He replied before disappearing into another hallway.

Artyom and Cass walked forward, but the stalker heard a loud beeping noise emanating from the caravanner's collar. "Shit!" Cass swore before she jumped back. "There's a radio around!"

"I know it was too easy." The courier commented before glancing over to the non-collared person in the room. "Artyom, see if you could find any computers and destroy them."

He nodded his head in acknowledgement as began to make his way towards the desk across from him. The radio was atop with the static still playing, but its days of being useful were long-gone. Now he had to be the one to end the radio equipment. He would have been paid enough cartridges if he sold it to anyone wanting a radio.

Artyom reached for his holster and drew his magnum, blasting the radio into destruction with a single trigger. Once it was gone, he came closer and noticed the desk was placed in front of a prison cell. As he slowly stepped forward, his body froze at the sight of a creature he once saw before. It was one of those strange monsters that almost killed Cass that night; however, the person of pure muscle was crying to himself. "Angelique, is this person one of the people we need?" He asked.

She walked up to join him with her plasma rifle in hand as she took a glance at her Pip-Boy. "It has to be, my Pip-Boy appears to get a strong signal if I get closer to him."

"What are we going to do with him?"

"Let's try and get him out. I'll try and talk to him." When she walked towards the jail cell, her collar beeped again before she stepped back. "There has to be more, try and see if there are more inside."

He nodded his head and proceeded to ensure the entire building was safe for them to travel freely. When he made his way to the left side of the room, there was a radio on a small table and one underneath another desk adjacent to the jail cell. He lined up his shots and fired away, leaving a mess of electrical parts and wiring splashed around their own vicinity.

Then she began to give orders. "There looks like there is another level downstairs. Try to clear the area if you can, would you?"

Without a word, he simply gave a nod.

She walked up to the jail cell and began speaking. "Hey, can you hear me?"

The creature ignored her.

"Why are you crying?"

It still didn't answer, but Artyom let her do the talking as he walked towards a hallway on the other side of the room and past the jail. For whatever reason, there was a strange moment going on in his mind after he blinked.

Instead of the dirty dust-covered room, the stalker found himself looking at a clean room with people walking to and fro in police uniforms. Others were walking in their armor pieces, the very kind he was wearing himself. There was a man in a black suit walking from one desk to another, but the men who worked this building stood up to greet him as if he was important enough to be recognized.

When he blinked his eyes once more, Artyom heard saw Cass giving him a weird look. "Are you alright? You look like you might fall."

He needed a decent excuse. "It might just be the Cloud. I'm fine."

She nodded her head in skepticism. "You say that. Allow me to accompany you, just in case you get knocked out."

There was reluctance from him, but the stalker didn't want to speak of the strange memory he was given. "Okay."

Artyom made his way to the doorway and descended down the stairs with his revolver out. Then he heard the voice of the Dark Ones speak into his mind. 'The second face is here and he is waiting for you.'

At the base of the stairs, the duo found themselves confronted by a single door as the caravanner took the chance to be on point with her shotgun. To their surprise, a voice from the basement PA system came to life. "I knew you would come." The stranger began. "You have to seek me out below the cage. Perhaps you saw the letters while I was away? Nevertheless, I want you to continue, search for me." He paused for a moment. "That one in the cage, his name is Dog. He is an animal and just like all animals, he needed to be locked up for not disobeying me."

Cass looked over her shoulder, taking a quick glance at Artyom raising his carbine magnum. "Let's check it out together." She suggested before taking off.

He was quick to accompany her as they both walked through the tunnels, looking for the very person who was speaking to them. Another door was opened bringing them into the room. However, her collar beeped as she stepped back. "Mind clearing that out for me?"

Artyom understood that despite her willingness to follow after him, he had to go alone. He looked around the room, only to see another door on the other side. Maybe the radio was close, but not too close to be hit directly. If the stranger was talking to him, perhaps it was a trap for those who did try to find him.

The stalker continued onward into another hallway, which lead him into another room. There were fallen filing cabinets, some of which were filled with Sierra Madre chips. He reached out to collect and lump them into another pouch of his, fitting them into a small container. Beside them, there was a container filled with bottles of whiskey. Cass would probably appreciate coming back with bottles of whiskey.

After looting the entire room, he made his way through another doorway and one more irrelevant room filled with janitorial supplies. However, he noted that the rooms and the hallways looped back towards the very room Cass was in. As he opened the door, Artyom found a lonely radio placed on a desk across from him with a strange device almost similar to the tapes he had at home.

The stranger's voice spoke. "Do you see me? Do you see the disk? Good." It almost sounded like he was talking to a dog. "There I am, waiting to meet you. However, I can't take any chances. You may be some innocent victim who has stumbled upon this place or the man who I truly think it is. Either way, we will meet face-to-face in this moment."

He walked forward, but remained cautious. Was he in this very room, waiting to take advantage over him? Artyom took a quick glance to each side of the room as he slowly made his way towards the radio. Whoever this person was, he didn't sound to be crossed with. Then he turned off the radio and grabbed the disk off the table. Curious, he took a quick glance at it and wondered how important it was. Angelique would know what do with this once he got back to her.

On the corner of his eye, he saw the figure of a person walk up to him from a window in front of him. "I didn't hear an explosion, but my collar isn't beeping so that means you took care of it." Cass spoke. "Did you find the guy talking to us?"

The stalker showed the disk. "No, but I found this. Looks like it was meant for us… or someone else."

"Anything worth looking into?"

"No, but I did find these." Then he presented three bottles of whiskey.

She chuckled. "Ah, something to treat a woman. Especially one with a bomb around her neck. Let's get that disk to Angelique, her Pip-Boy might have something on that holodisk."

Artyom was quick to rejoin his companion as they made their way upstairs.

They immediately found communist leaning on a nearby desk while the courier did her best to get the mutant's attention. "Damn it, nothings working."

Pavel pulled out a lighter and a grenade. "Maybe we can blow the cell open."

Angelique stared at him and was not impressed with his suggestion. "He'll be caught in the explosion. If he dies, I die."

"So? If a piece of him survives and he's still living, isn't that a net positive?" Then he let a chuckle escape. "I'm just kidding, we'll find a way."

However, she was not amused.

When she turned around, Artyom pulled out the holodisk and presented it to her. "Cass and I found this in the basement. There was someone talking to us, but I thought you might be able to do something with this."

"A holodisk for us?" She wondered. "Let me take a look." Angelique snatched the holodisk from him and inserted it into her Pip-Boy. "This better work, I've been trying to get that nightkin's attention ever since you guys left. Otherwise, we might actually use Pavel's option."

"Wait, you're considering it?" Spoke the surprised red.

"Yep, but that will be last resort." Her fingers began pressing buttons and scrolling wheels, but Artyom was able to get a good look at how efficiently she used it compared to him. "Dog Command Tape. I have a feeling the super mutant in the cell is associated with him."

After she pressed the play button, the young Russian recognized the stranger's voice in the basement. The command spoke firm, but directed as if it was actually directed to someone. "Dog, back in the cage."

On the corner of Artyom's eyes, the creature in the cell raised his head. Was this some kind of trigger for him?

The beast that once whimpered and moaned like a child stood up and turned around to meet the group. The development made everyone nervous as they backed away from the cell while they all cling to their weapons. Everyone except Angelique. "What do we have here?" The beast wondered.

It was alarming to believe that the very person that was talking to him in the basement was the one in the cell all along. However, it did alarm him and make him wonder why he would trap himself in a prison cell in the first place.

"I see four people standing before. You must be innocent travelers who have stumbled upon this place. I would consider you all kin, but two of your have collars on while the others don't." The nightkin stated. "Tell me, are you slavers or do your both serve the old man. Perhaps two of you are slavers passing by, but the Sierra Madre is out of ways."

"Who are you and why do you have dog written on your chest?" Angelique asked.

"Me? I am God, but the person who I put back in the cage is Dog. He needs mirrors to remind himself who he truly is, a beast with a desire to serve. As for me, I am his conscience. The one who truly wishes to help him and tries to keep him from his… hunger."

Artyom became confused despite the creature's explanation. "I don't understand." He spoke. "How can there be two people in one?"

God looked at him. "Your voice, it sounds different. It's not normal around these parts."

"I'm not around these parts."

"That is a very interesting answer. Tell me, what brought you to the Sierra Madre? Was it the treasure, the curiosity to explore, or do you work for him?" The last word indicating a hostile tone towards whoever it was.

He realized he was referring to Elijah, the man who Pavel and himself had to deal with just for their companion's freedom. "No, I don't work for that man."

"Interesting, then why are you in the company of the others."

Then the courier diverted his attention away from the stalker. "We're here to get you out of your prison cell."

"No." Answered God. "I will not leave."

"Why not? Do you value your own freedom?"

The super mutant scoffed at her questions. "Freedom? There is no freedom for Dog and I. As soon as the beast gets out of his cage, he will come back to the old man, because he desires a master and will always look for one. I must break this desire by confronting him." The creature of the apocalypse answered. "Which brings me to wonder, who put the collars upon your necks?"

She didn't speak for a moment. "The old man."

"I knew it. You two are fools to come here, which brings me to question the other two who don't have collars on their throats."

"They came to rescue us." Angelique replied. "Cass and I were knocked out and were brought to this place against our will."

"That is interesting. Dog has a habit to bring his prey out from the traps, but I wonder if you remember anything."

"No, we don't remember."

"Then it means you were of use to the old man, which means you are here because of his influence. I will not come out to help him."

Pavel spoke. "So that means you want to be here to spite him."

"Indeed. I have no intention of helping in any way." God acknowledged him. "However, you and your friend can leave this place with your lives. Why remain?"

Artyom took a step forward and confronted him. "Like Angelique said, we're to rescue them and I intend to rescue them."

"Really? You came all this way and arrive at the very place that consists of nothing more than monsters and traps, but also contains treasure. Yet, you came here for your friends. I find that hard to believe."

"I beg to disagree. I'm not here for the treasure."

God began to laugh. "That is what everyone says until they all take calculated risks. Each unfortunate soul believing he could have it all, beat the old man and the others only to come short. What makes you think you will be any different from the others?" The stalker reached down into his pouch before him. "Don't think you can threaten me. I have the means of getting out of this cell without any of you knowing."

The young man shook his head. "This is not a threat." Out from his pouch, he presented a single bullet. One military grade round was displayed for those to see. "Like I said, I'm not from around these parts. Now what do you see?"

"I see is a bullet in a hands of a fool trying to impress me."

Artyom glanced over to the bullet and back to the mutant. "In the Metro, my home, the things we value are far different than this foreign land I stand in. Where Pavel and I come from, a bullet is our currency. Military grade rounds have become our money, but do you know why?"

"No, but I do get the impression you will tell me."

"All we need in the Metro to take a life is a single bullet and I carry many of them with me." He replied. "When I said I am not here for the treasure, I truly meant it."

A warm smile came from God as he clapped his hands. "Of all the people who came to the Sierra Madre, you might be right in that regard. Out of all the times people tried to convince me they didn't want the treasure, they failed. I believe you, not because you're a foreigner, but because you don't have the greed that the old man or anyone else. Still, you might change, but I might see it through to see if you can endure the temptation."

Angelique grabbed her Pip-Boy. "I'm surprised to know the Russian was able to convince you."

Then surprise was plastered across his face. "No wonder why his voice was so strange. It is because of the accent. What brings you two here?"

Artyom and Pavel glanced at each other before the communist answered first. "Long story short, weird shit you see in the tunnels."

"That is interesting." The super mutant replied. "Since you've convinced me you're here to free your companions, I'll help ease through that process and perhaps meet the old man himself." His hand reached for his neck, wrapped in chains, before he pulled out a key and walked up to the keyhole. "Give me a moment."

"You had the key on yourself?"

"Yes, a precaution for the beast within." When he unlocked the cell doors, the group stood back. "Well, how shall we begin?"

"I'm going to give you a quick run-down." Spoke Angelique. "Elijah has bomb collars around our necks and they're connect. If one of us dies, we all die. So try not to get yourselves killed if we come across the ghost people. Still, I wonder how I was able to track you down if you didn't have one one your neck."

God grunted. "I do have one inside of me. Blame Dog and his incessant need to feed. He'll do anything to sate himself, even if the body has a bomb on his victim's collar."

Artyom heard a laugh from behind as he glanced over, only to see Cass chuckling. "You're going to have a hard time taking a shit."

He rolled his eyes at the comment. "Thank you for that."

"Don't worry. At least you're not Long-Dick Johnson." Everyone in the room turned around and glared at her. "What?"

* * *

After hours of sleep and boredom, Veronica opened her eyes once more. The isolation was killing her in the same manner as the chapter. However, she wondered if she could escape this place and tell the others about Elijah's madness and his obsession with this place. The man who cared for her was no longer sane enough to leave this place and further the advancements of the Brotherhood of Steel.

The door to her confined room had opened, but with a Mister Handy flying inside. As she sat up from her bed, she remained confused and surprised when the holographic image of Father Elijah appeared. "Veronica, are you awake?" He asked.

The scribe rose from her bed and stood before her former father figure's image. "Yeah, what do you want?"

"I'm sorry if I was harsh on you earlier, but years of being away from the Brotherhood has affected my trust. I've seen too many people betray me and their companions for far too long that I've changed. If I intend to clean the Mojave, I should start with you."

"Father Elijah, why are you doing this?" She wondered. "This is all too sudden."

She could hear the old man sigh. "I've been trapped here, whenever a group of people come here in search of the treasure I try to get their attention to help me get out of here. However, their greed gets the better of them and they cross one-another as the opportunity to get out of this place is gone." Then he changed the subject. "From what I can hear from your companions, it seems that their reasons for coming to the Sierra Madre are genuine. I consider them fools, but it appears they have been cooperative."

"Then why come to me?" Veronica wondered. "Why tell me all of this when I'm stuck in isolation?"

"It's the ghost people, the inhabitants of Puesta Del Sol." Answered the old man. "It appears they're pressing into the very facility you're in. The machines can do so much against people who refuse to die. If you escape you may reunite with your companions and perhaps with me."

He still cared for her to some degree. Despite how much he had changed and what he intends for the NCR, it had to be an advantage for her. This was a way to get out. "Where should I go?"

"Follow the Mister Handy. I've programmed the machine to follow my commands. It should bring you to the designated exit location, but should also get you across to the armory."

"What happens when I get out?"

"Find your company." He replied. "They will know the way." Then the hologram disappeared.

The Mister Handy spoke and grabbed her attention. "Come with me, Ms. Santangelo." The robot said before proceeding out of the door.

She followed after her as the door behind her closed and the door in front had opened. However, she could hear laser and plasma fire in the distance. Something or someone was attacking this place.

"This way." Veronica followed the robot out into a hallway as she saw Mister Gutsies flying past them.

As they went through a maze of hallways, the scribe looked around and saw mangled bodies of military variants alongside those of dead people. However, they were different. Their limbs were torn, but where there was supposed to be blood there was green goo instead. "What happened to them?" She quietly whispered to herself.

Then the Mister Handy stood beside the doorway. "Get whatever you need, it's in the armory."

Without hesitation, Veronica stormed into the room, only to find various knives and energy weapons. Yet, she saw a weapon placed on a shelf labelled 'Veronica'. She was thankful that Elijah knew how to organize himself when he needed be. Grabbing her handy powerfist, she walked out of the room with the machine still waiting for her.

"Let us go." It said as she followed.

Three more Mister Gutsies flew past her with one of them passing by. "Let's go Marines!"

Then the Mister Handy hovered over a hatch. "This is where I'll stop." It said. "The hostiles are getting closer."

She glanced at the hatch and pulled it open. However, she felt a projectile slam into the Mister Handy as it fell in. There was a spear embedded into its armor. Looking back, there five of those _things_ standing before her. Were they the Ghost people?

They screamed from inside their suits, but it wasn't human to begin with. Then they began charging after her. However, one of them threw a large fire extinguisher at her.

Veronica took no chances with those things as she jumped into the hole and closed the hatch. Then she made her way out of the facility while a great explosion erupted the tunnel behind her. That was a bomb, a makeshift one at that. Whoever they were, they were not even human.

There was a tunnel on the other side with a white light present. As she continued to run towards her freedom, the supposed fresh sight changed for her. Instead of seeing the familiar environment that she had seen in the Mojave, everything was covered in red. The scribe heard stories of a red cloud, but to see it actually existed made her wonder.

Her first steps out of the facility had brought her into an open ground as she noticed the entire area filled with nothing, but silence. It had disturbed her as she looked around, but it changed when she saw two ghost people walk up to her from the only entrance into the square. Veronica readied her power fist to fight them head on.

To her surprise, she saw a tall dark figure appear just behind the ghost people. It's hands brought down on the two ghost people, but never made contact. What she saw was unbelievable when the two turned away from her and began attacking one-another. One had a knife in its hand while the other came after it with a bear trap as a weapon. In a single strike, they took off each other's limbs before they slumped to the ground like dolls.

The creature that made the two attack each other took a quick glance at her, but turned around and walked away. She had seen many mutants over her course as the Brotherhood of Steel, but this topped it off. What was shocking was that it's simple walk transformed it into a single blur that left her as soon as it arrived.

Whatever that mutant was, it wasn't normal to begin with. Seeing that it killed the two ghost people that confronted her, perhaps it had better things to do. Despite the fact she didn't want to follow after it that was the only way for her. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained." Veronica whispered to herself.

* * *

The party walked through the streets as they made their way to their next destination. Despite knowing the way, God began asking a question. "Where are we going?"

Angelique continued to lead the way without giving a glance to explain. "The next person Elijah placed a bomb collar on." She answered. "He or she is in the Residential District."

"Ah, I know who you're referring to. Dean Domino, he has lived long while he retains his greed for the Sierra Madre. He's been here since the bombs fell which was two hundred years ago."

For Artyom that had to be impossible. "Someone lived for two hundred years? Who could possibly live that long?"

Then Cass was quick to answer. "He must have been a ghoul, people who have been exposed to radiation long enough to allow them to have long lives."

"How?" The Russian wondered. "It shouldn't be possible."

"When you meet a ghoul, you'll understand. Well, only the ones that have become mindless monsters."

"She is right." God commented. "This man is not normal. He has lived long enough to witness many disappear from the toxicity of the cloud and its inhabitants."

When they arrived at the fountain, their home base, there was a single person waiting there. She was talking to the image of Elijah before it disappeared from existence. Then turning her head to the group upon arrival.

"Who could that be?"

Angelique and Cass rushed forward towards them. "You bitch!" The courier shouted. "You know that piece of shit who put the collars on us. Now you come all the way here all for what!"

The stalker, the communist, and the nightkin super mutant stood together and found themselves watching the scene from the sidelines. "That's Veronica." Pavel answered.

God spoke. "They don't seem happy to see her."

Artyom had the sense to ask a reasonable question. "Then we have ask, why are they angry at her."

The shout match between the women devolved into Angelique wrapping her hands around Veronica's neck.

"Shit, let's break it up." He said before running towards them.

Pavel was quick to join him. "Right behind you."

"You brought us here for your damn Brotherhood!" The courier shouted. "Test subjects for a sick experiment of yours."

The Brotherhood scribe grabbed her hands holding onto her neck as she tried to pry them off of her. "Angelique, I didn't know Elijah was here in the first place."

"Bullshit!" Cass commented. "Why the hell do we have bomb collars while you don't?"

"Because Father Elijah knows me."

"Yeah, enough to put them on us instead."

Artyom was quick to grab Angelique's shoulders and pull her off. "Calm down."

"Veronica, are you okay?" Pavel asked.

"Of course she's okay, she doesn't have a bomb collar around her neck." Angelique stated. Then she shrugged Artyom's hold off of him as she walked away.

The scribe looked up at him as her breathing became easier for her. "I'm fine." She replied to the communist before getting up from the ground.

The courier glanced over to him. "We can't trust her. She's connected to the bastard who brought us here."

Then the super mutant stepped forward. "I see that you're close to Elijah. Tell me, do you know how much the old man reeks of failure."

"You know about Father Elijah?" Veronica wondered. "Who are you?"

"Me? Dog is merely a… tool in the old man's scheme. I wish to break your master's influence."

"He's not my master!"

"Then how do you know him?"

"He took me under his wing and taught me. His obsession with technology got the better of him when he tried to hold Helios One from the NCR."

"Yes. That moment he tried to bring the sun down to him and was blinded by it. His reward for his foolishness."

"I didn't even think that he survived that event."

Cass crossed her arms and confronted her. "Then why are you here?"

She gave a quick glance to the caravanner. "I escaped. This seemed to be the only safest place around these parts."

"I don't know whether you are telling the truth or not."

Artyom felt the Dark Ones speak into his mind. 'Danger is here. Be ready. The ghosts have arrived.' He quickly looked around to see stumbling figures walk out from the alleys and buildings with their green eyes staring at him.

He was quick to alert the others. "Ghost people! Everyone get ready!" Then he drew his Bastard sub-machine gun only to see that his magazine was half-empty, but it was his last one.

Everyone looked around and readied their weapons as they formed a circle around the fountain. God walked over to Angelique while he tightened his fists. "I'm a terrible fighter." He said. "You both would do better if I let Dog out."

She glanced over to him. "Are you going to compromise yourself for that?"

"It might be necessary; however, I cannot help once Dog is in control. He might see you as food as well."

The courier chuckled. "Funny, I had the means to turn you into Dog from my Pip-Boy."

"Really? I'm surprised you didn't try."

She raised her plasma rifle, aiming at the numerous enemy coming towards them. "I was going to try and convince you, but Artyom got there first."

"Interesting, do you wish to bring out Dog?"

"Nope. I think I prefer your personality over what you say about Dog."

Pavel began to speak. "Alright comrades, let's give them hell!"

Gunfire erupted from the group as the ghost people charged them. Spear knives flew short while the limited ones rushed the group with bear traps in hand. Yet, they fell to the bullets and the streams of plasma. Those who managed to get past were immediately met by Veronica and God, the scribe punching them into submission as the other tore them apart with his bear hands.

When Artyom's magazine was empty, he switched his Bastard for his revolver. His scope lined up with one head and as he pulled the trigger, the recoil raised his weapon while he watched the ghost person's head explode. Then he began to focus his attention on the others as he gunned down the next person beside his victim.

As his last shot was fired, he began to reload his .44 magnum with the next six bullets before he noticed one rush after him. Unlike the other ghost people he killed, this one was carrying an object in his hand as it lighted the top. However, he realized the fuze was going down. "Bomb!" He screamed to the top of his lungs.

The ghost person tossed the large fire extinguisher at the group while Artyom finished his reloading and fired his pistol rounds at it. Lady luck was on his side when his bullets marked the bomb for destruction. However, the mid-air explosion knocked him back in a daze.

After he landed on the ground, the world seem to look like a red blur. He couldn't hear anything thanks to that loud ringing in his ears. People were shouting while the gunfire continued. However, his body begged him to rest after such a force. Then he felt his body being dragged while his back scrapped the ground.

A hand grabbed him by the shoulder and was lifted off the ground. When his back was pulled up with his legs refusing to move, he saw the fountain before him and it was getting hard to see it. Then a voice cried out to him. "Artyom!"

The stalker tried to move, but a figure stood before him. It's green eyes stared into his soul before its fist punched him into a slumber.

* * *

Author's Note: This was a big one, worth two chapters. I could have made it longer, but 5.7k should be enough.

* * *

 **Paladin Bailey** : Unlike the Fallout universe, the Metro factions can be sensible out of pragmatism.

 **iloveTanks** : Don't expect Hans to show up for quite a long time.


	21. Chapter 21: Wrath of the Damned

When the news reached the Polis Council, an immediate response came from the major factions to end this threat once and for all. With the guidance of Polis, Hanza would pay for the logistical expenses to send the Red Line and Nazi soldiers under the organization of the Rangers. However, they were going to Paveletskaya and it was not just any station. What made this place unique was the lack of a hermetic door to keep the mutants out. With the inhabitants in constant war with the mutants, it was a surprise to see it last long against this threat. If they were not on the border, Hanza wouldn't be sending shipment of ammunition to keep them at bay.

Bourbon sat in the head steam-powered railcar across from Stella as the Rangers simply waited for the time to deploy. The rest were ensuring that the Communists and the Nazis don't kill each other in the meantime.

Stella began to ask a question. "Since it's going to take awhile. Are you the mood to answer some questions of mine?"

The stalker nodded his head. "Sure. I don't have any vodka with me so why not. What's your question?"

"This station, Paveletsa."

"Paveletskaya." Bourbon corrected him.

"Yes. That station. I heard the populace was given long-term exposure to radiation."

"Yeah, what about it?"

"They could be feral or just ghouls in general." The ex-Ranger commented. "I have some experience with them."

"Ghouls? What are those?"

Her eyebrows were raised in surprise. "If you were living in the Mojave, you would have been considered living under a rock."

"I've been living in a Metro system."

"Point made." She replied. "Ghouls are people who look like they're skin is peeling off and appear to look like the undead."

The experienced loner chuckled at the thought. "If that is what you think we're going to see at Paveletskaya then you're wrong."

Stella crossed her arms. "Really? How?"

"I've been to that station, it's nothing like you just described."

"Then what do you think I'll find there?"

He pulled out a cigarette out of his pocket before bringing his bullet lighter to light the end. "Children's eyes almost look like bats, a person's fingers has claws instead, a pig's snout for a nose, you get the idea." The stalker replied before taking a smoke. "They should consider themselves lucky the Nazis don't want to exterminate their people."

"Why is that? The Nazis don't appear to be that mean." The man scoffed at her reply. "What? Is it wrong that they want my attention instead of you?"

"That's because you're an outsider and a woman. If you lived in these tunnels, you wouldn't want to be around their company."

"They can't be that bad."

Then one of the Rangers spoke up. "The stalker is right. They're the worst sort of company you want. The only reason they want your attention is because their officers don't know they're flirting with a subhuman."

Stella glared up at the man. "Who the hell are you?"

"My name is Uhlman, one of the Rangers."

"How do you know so much about them?" She wondered. Bourbon allowed the man with the vast amount of experience do the talking.

"Ma'am, I've seen them mass murder entire stations because some people didn't meet their head measurement standards." He answered.

Her expression couldn't understand how people would do such a thing. "Why would they do that? Did their commanders punish them?"

"Kill them? No, they got congratulated that they executed the mutants and the subhumans from the rest of the Metro. It's in their faction's philosophy."

"That's wrong. Why are we in their company then?"

"Because they have more soldiers than what the Rangers could deploy." Uhlman answered. "Welcome to the Metro."

"You'd let the Nazis go free after all of this time. You shouldn't be a Ranger in the first place."

Bourbon snapped his fingers at the woman. "Hey, don't disrespect the Polis Rangers. They're the only people who are willing to limit the Nazis to do that shit in their own territory. If not for them, the other factions would have had a full-blown war in these tunnels and nobody will be safe."

"Perhaps it's preferable than letting those bastards live." The woman commented.

"Or you should keep to your own affairs." The stalker replied. "I don't know how your people do it in the Mojave, but things are different here. It's time you learned that."

A loud cry from one of the Rangers driver shouted. "I see something up ahead! There should be some station lights to meet us, but I don't see them."

Bourbon rose from his seat and walked up to the side and leaned over the railing. "Those aren't lights, they're fires." He replied. "Get closer, something must have happened to their generators."

When the steam-powered trolley accelerated forward, he brought out his combat shotgun for this suspicious moment. There were always flood lights to give the defenders a field of view of the tunnel so the mutants don't get past the sentries. However, there was none of that when he could hear people screaming in the distance.

The station must have been overrun by the Legion or there were just too many mutants to deal with. To his surprise, he saw four figures in the distance. They wore strange outfits as one of them was armed with a pool cue and smashed it on the victim's head. There was just something off about it, but their laughter didn't comfort him when they killed their victim. The others joined in, smashing pipes and bludgeons onto the now-dead man on the platform.

He heard one of the Rangers honk the railcar horn and looked back to the others. "Motherfuckers, everyone deploy!"

Stella stood beside him and glanced over at the scene. "Those guys aren't Legion, they're Fiends."

Bourbon stared at her. "How do you know?"

"Those assholes are on chems and they enjoy making people suffer. I'll explain later after we kill them all."

One of the Rangers ran to the back of the railcar and shouted to the convoy behind him. "Deploy! Deploy! Deploy!"

Looking back, the tunnel was filled with commotion as the railcars stopped moving. Dozens of soldiers grabbed their gear and jumped to the tracks as they made their way towards Paveletskaya.

Bourbon was quick to join them with Stella behind his back. The Fiends tried to charge them, but gunfire from the vanguard of Polis Rangers put them down. Soon, they ran past their bodies and climbed onto the platform.

When he got past the entrance, chaos ensued with Fiends caught off-guard by the force that stormed the area. Despite the numbers, some left while others fought back with evil grin on their faces. Yet, one of them carried a strange weapon in her hand as she aimed it him. A green stream of flew past the men as Bourbon fell to his knees while the heat flew past him. "What the fuck is that?" He wondered.

Then he heard Stella reply. "It's a plasma gun."

As soon as the stalker saw the person once more, a shotgun blast put her down while the others fired their rifles and automatic guns.

Amongst the flood of troops, Colonel Miller began shouting orders. "Secure the platform and find any survivors!"

In the midst of the fighting, he became curious as he walked over to the body and picked up the weapon from the dead woman. This was something out of science-fiction, but in his hand was an energy weapon. This was something that Polis needed to see.

While the gunfire echoed in the background, Bourbon looked around and saw the remains of the station. Fire burned from the houses, bodies of the mutated inhabitants lying before him, others were charred from the flames. Death all around did little to comfort him as the stalker began to join the others, but for his own reason.

Stella was surprised by his quick reaction as he turned left and began running. "Hey!" Soon, she followed after him as he rushed forward.

On the right flank, Communist soldiers drew their assault rifles while their armored peers led the way with their automatic shotguns. "Lay down your weapons!" One man shouted at a sandbag position occupied by Fiends.

Rifle fire returned in reply before he could hear one of them cried out in laughter. "Do you like the sight of your own blood!"

"Fuck, suppressive fire." Volleys of shotgun shells peppered the position before one of the Reds pulled out a grenade launcher and fired two at the enemy. When they fell from their arc, the position was no more while the group dispersed to secure the position. "Leave no survivors."

While Bourbon ran past them, he saw one armored Fiend with two machetes confront him. However, he reached into his pocket and brought out a strange syringe before injecting it into his arm. Then the man screamed out a loud battle cry. "Bring it on, bitches!"

He raised his Shambler unleashing the fury of his shotgun shells onto the armored raider. Despite his effort, the pellets did little to deter the dual-wielding swordsman. Thankfully, he wasn't alone when Stella joined him fighting the man. Unlike him, she was firing the strange energy weapon at him.

When the streams of plasma landed on the man, his armor melted while he screamed in agony. "Fuck, get over here so you can bleed."

The stalker was not inclined to agree. "Shut up before I make you my bitch." He replied after he pulled out his revolver. Except, this weapons was last resort for the worst kind of monsters. Then he pulled the trigger without hesitation.

Just as he expected, the armor did little to save him before he began to bleed from his heart. "Got to get some Med-X."

That alone made Stella step forward with her weapon. "Put him down before he puts more chems in his body!"

Heeding her advice, the revolver sight fell upon the Fiend's head. This one should count. At the pull of the trigger, the bullet struck through and killed the man.

"That should do." She replied. "Why did you run ahead?"

Bourbon slipped his sidearm into its holster before reloading his shotgun. "I'm trying to find out if there are any survivors left."

"Knowing the Fiends, they don't leave much."

"That's what I'm afraid that will happen." He said.

Then the duo looked ahead and were surprised by the sight they saw. A pack of Fiends fled from the left side of the platform to the right while gunfire chased after them. "Get the hell out of here!"

When they were gone, tall figures stormed out from the hallway before taking notice of them. The group had flashlights on as they turned to face them. However, all of them turned them off except for one. Then the light began to blink three times.

"What are they doing?" She wondered.

Bourbon pulled out his head flashlight from his pack and activated his light three times. After he finished the message, the group of soldiers split off, the first remaining in their positions as the second came towards him. Taking his head flashlight off, he chuckled to himself. "It's stalker code. We use this on the surface. Those are the survivors."

"How do you know this?"

Then he glanced to the ex-Ranger. "I usually keep in touch with this station and that part of the station is where everyone is supposed to go in case the station is under siege."

"What should we do now? It looks like the Fiends are running away."

"We should go to the colonel and tell him the news. They might find out where these people came from."

* * *

Opening his eyes, Artyom felt his body sliding on the warm dry ground as he looked around. His last memory was not comforting while he felt the tight iron grip on his collar. Looking over his shoulder, a ghost person dragged him into a room through a hole in the wall. However, it was unaware that he was awake.

Looking at his hands, his revolver was still in his hands, but there was a chance that it might have been empty.

Then he heard the ghost person's howling when it released its grip on him, but it also pulled out one of those strange knives from its side. If this was the time for it to kill him, he had to fight back before it took the opportunity to take his life.

The stalker grabbed his trench knife and slashed at its calf.

It dropped onto one knee as if it was taking in the damage and pain. As Artyom pushed himself off the ground, it turned around with its gas mask staring back at him. Whatever it was doing, the creature was allowing him the opportunity to fight back. The barrel of his revolver rested upon his arm while edge of the blade was pointed at the inhuman creature.

When it stumbled forward, he pulled the trigger and felt his magnum recoil at the shot. Just as he suspected, the ghost person before him had lost its head in the process.

After the body slumped to the ground, Artyom checked his ammo, only to see there was no bullets left. Either it was luck or coincidence that he would use his last round to save himself from the monster.

Looking back at the hole in the wall, Artyom felt unnerved if he tried to go through the tunnel itself. Just in case the ghost people would come after him, he would have to use one of his grenades into a makeshift tripwire bomb. However, he would have to ignore it if it was his only way out.

His attention grew elsewhere when he saw a strange rifle on the table along with a dozen other mags that was meant for it. Whatever this gun was, it would be a great substitute for his Bastard as he grabbed it off the table. Slipping the mags into his backpack, he noted two magazines placed beside the weapon. One called 'Locksmith's Reader' while the second one was named 'Fixin' Things'. Perhaps they would have information useful to him.

Aside from the hole in the wall, there was a staircase leading up, but where to? Filled with curiosity, the young man walked up the steps and made his way towards the level called 'Medical Clinic'. Maybe he could find some medical supplies for himself before he could join the others.


	22. Chapter 22: Begin Again

When the station was secured from the threat of the Fiends, anger filled the hearts of the soldiers as their prisoners rambled on about needing drugs. With the assistance of Polis medical teams, they learned that these people were filled with drugs or chems as Stella puts it. Still, their mere presence earned a few beatings from the Hanza, Nazi, Red personnel on the platform. In Bourbon's eyes, they deserved it. These people had the galls to attack an important station that fought tooth and nail to keep the mutants from a direct route into the Metro.

A Nazi brought out his baton and brought a beating on a man with a cow's skull for a hat; however, his officer walked over to keep him back from killing the man. It was very difficult to keep everyone from attacking the prisoners, but not easy to forget the carnage these people… enjoyed.

The stalker departed from watching over the group of prisoners as he made his way back to the entrance of the station where the command post was set up by the Polis Rangers. Bourbon stopped himself while the colonel was busy speaking with the officers from the major three states. "Hanza will be protecting the civilian and prisoners in-case these people try to break through the barricades, understand?" The officers nodded their head, acknowledging the Ranger's orders. "The Nazis will secure the perimeter of the station and report any sighting of a push to our people. Meanwhile the Reds will be kept in reserve to putting out the fires depending on the direction of the attack. Stay vigilant, people. This is not over yet. Dismissed."

When the officers departed from the colonel's presence, Bourbon stepped forward and met with the Ranger himself. "Colonel Miller, you called for me?"

"Yes, did you get any information from the locals?" Miller asked. "I know they're not comfortable around these soldiers, but those people seem to treat you well. I won't ask, but say what you can about what occurred during the attack."

"Turns out one of the guards went too far from his post and noticed a strange anomaly that was pulsing in the tunnel. However, he thought it was good idea to try and walk through it."

The Ranger shook his. "That is stupid."

"That's what I said, but let's get back to the topic. The guy said that when he entered the pulsing anomaly he found himself in some kind of desert under the sun."

"Okay, I've heard many anomalies, but this guy must have been smoking mushrooms while he was at it."

"I thought the same, but my experience says otherwise."

"Experience?" The colonel asked. "What kind of experience are we talking about here?"

"Back before I became a stalker around these parts, I'm one of those old veteran stalkers from Ukraine." Bourbon answered. "You know what I'm talking about."

The man's eyes widened like china plates at the mere mention of such a place. "Wait a minute, you're a stalker from the Zone?"

Bourbon nodded his head. "Yes, but that was a long time ago." Then he reached into his knapsack and pulled out a small bag. The contents jingled until he opened it and revealed it to the colonel. "If what the locals say is true, I'll have to toss some bolts and see if its dangerous. Then I may enter it."

"Since you're not one of my men, go ahead. If it does lead us to the place where these assholes are coming from."

"Fiends." Bourbon corrected.

"You know them?"

"No, not at all. However, Stella does. Apparently, she has dealt with them before. She claims they are druggies who enjoy violence."

"They sound like mad dogs that need to be put down. Well, I'm not stopping you from fucking around with an anomaly so you better get going on that problem."

Taking his bag of bolts with him, Bourbon made his way towards the very entrance the Fiends came from. The eyes of the sentries took a quick glance at him before a Red Line officer came to confront him. "Hey, are you crazy. You're walking into a high danger zone."

"I know." Bourbon answered. "However, I have Colonel Miller's permission to proceed past this checkpoint."

"The Spartan Colonel? Very well, you may go and good luck out there, stalker."

Walking past the checkpoint and away from the torches and flashlights of the station's defenses, he saw the bodies of the defenders still present at their stations. The carnage they had to endure was perhaps the worst the station had in a very long time.

When he was surrounded by darkness, Bourbon pulled out his headlight and charged the battery to the maximum. Blood and bullet holes littered the entire tunnel as he walked past the fallen Fiends. Some laid their backs on the wall while their hands covered their wounds while others simply died with a needle deep in their skin. In the old days, they would have been sent to rehab, but twenty years made it impossible for people not to think about escaping this hell-hole.

Then his eyes noticed a pulsing in the air. It almost reminded him of the anomalies in the Zone, the kind that would bring some poor unsuspecting stalker into its grip and force them to explode. Here, it might be different. If his time with Artyom was anything to go by, it is a phenomenon. If the place that screwed with his mind was anything to go by, there was no rational explanation.

His hand reached into his bag of bolts and readied himself for the result. For all he knew, the anomaly might cause some violent reaction that could kill him. As he tossed the bolt, the stalker contemplated at the anomaly like he was one of those scientist back in Ukraine.

When the bolt contacted the anomaly, a small white light consumed it. In all of his times as a stalker, this was new for him.

He threw another bolt to observe the strange phenomenon once more.

Then Bourbon tossed the next bolt.

And another one…

If the Fiends came from this tunnel, could it be that it originated from this very anomaly? They certainly wouldn't have originated past this point given that the hermetic door would expose them to the toxic air and the radiation. This anomaly had to be it.

Stalkers held a reputation for taking risks to endure radiation-filled locations and danger that lived there. If the anomalies wouldn't kill them, the mutants will. Then if they failed, the natives will.

Bourbon stepped forward with his combat shotgun at the ready and slipped his bayonet onto the barrel. There was a slight chance it might bring him into a dangerous location, but his entire profession was a hazardous occupation. No point in pussy-footing around this issue.

After entering the anomaly, he was embraced by a white light that blinded him. His makeshift shotgun was pointed in the general direction in front of him as he brought a free hand from his weapon to cover his eyes from the light.

While the brightness began to fade, the stalker felt warm air breeze into his face. It was not the toxic air of the Dead City nor the smell of the tunnels, but fresh air. His nose recognized fresh clean air by his arrival. The brightness faded before he was met by a strange sight before him.

The middle-aged man couldn't believe what he was seeing. He was standing in the middle of the desert and was on the surface without a gas mask. Off in the distance, he could see a city in ruins, but there was a great tower looming over the others and its light were flashing its fresh life.

He took a step forward, but his boot appeared to have knocked something over. Looking down, there was a toy dinosaur laying on its side. However, there was a strange carving that seemed to be connected to various places. Yet, he found where his bolts had landed. "Where the hell am I?" He wondered to himself before looking over his shoulder.

Behind his back was the very same kind of anomaly that he stepped into in the Metro. As he walked through, he found himself in the tunnels of the Metro.

"The Rangers are not going to believe the shit I just found."

* * *

After bypassing the door, Artyom found himself in a maze of hallways. The clinic was sure to be filled with medical supplies. There was a path before him, go up the next set of stairs or go to the right filled with various rooms?

Morbid curiosity filled the stalker as his automatic rifle was kept on his side. If there was an attack, he would have to endure the horrors of close-quarters if the ghost people were here. On his right, there was a doorway which led him into another hall, but the red glow on the far end caught his attention. It was a speaker.

He raised his rifle and lined up the old weapon before pulling the trigger. As soon as the single shot flew from the barrel, the stalker saw the bullet did little to damage the speaker. It appeared to have been shielded. Perhaps there was a way to turn it off, like those radios.

Artyom turned around and was met with a horrific sight he had never seen before. When he stepped into the room, he found headless bodies laying on the cots, rotting away. As he looked around the room, dozens of mannequins stood up with those bomb collars around their necks. This was probably the place where Elijah slipped the bomb collars on the people.

The smell was too much for him as he left the room and continued to explore the clinic. Bypassing the hallway with the speaker, he found a room with various chairs and a desk aimed towards the door. This must have been reception for the patients and the visitors. On one of the chairs was a strange holodisk and a stimpack. It must have been important to be there.

In the corner of the room, he found a glowing handprint on the wall behind two chairs. That was an interesting matter to notice as he made his way past the furniture. A briefcase remained hidden away from the naked eye before he dragged it out and opened it. Inside were contents that surprised him. More stimpacks were there as he saw a various food and ammunition.

The stalker slipped his weapon over his shoulder before taking a look at the caliber of the bullets. Out from his holster, he brought out on bullet from his revolver to compare the bullet sizes. Both bullets were the same, but he noticed cases of bullets of a different caliber. Would he need it? If there was a possibility of finding a weapon that used these rounds, maybe it would be useful, but where would he find one? Despite the thoughts of carrying too much ammunition, he slipped his newly acquired ammo into his knapsack.

Perhaps he could find a weapon that used this ammo type?

When he returned to the hallway, he made the decision to explore the place. Although the building endured through so much wear and tear, maybe the systems put in place were still intact to shut the machines that retained their power after all of these years. Then he began to have a look around. Each room he bypassed, there were these strange pods that were placed in the center of each room. Whatever these machines were, it intrigued him for some time. Yet, the origin of their purpose made him wary of touching them.

After reaching the other end of the hallway, the path lead to the left into a dead end with three more rooms. However, the young Russian began to observe the speakers themselves. Unlike the other ones he had seen, these appeared to have little to no method of breaking them down unless he could break the wall. "Maybe I could turn this place into a hideout for the others if I can get rid of them?"

Artyom shifted his attention to the other rooms; however, one of them was blocked off by rubble while the second room had another pod inside. Then he heard a knocking in the third room, but the sound appeared to have been contained. As he walked into the third room, there was just a pod like the others. Yet, there was more knocking coming from the very pod he was looking at. Did a survivor get trapped inside?

He walked up and began to pry the shutter open. His hands gripped onto the handle while his arms ached at the strength he exerted. The Russian cried out at the tough resistance it presented. Then he was given a hint of hope when the shutter slightly gave in for him. "Open." He said to himself, giving himself some courage to free whoever remained inside. The resistance that defied him had changed when the entire pod was exposed to the room.

The stalker stood back in relief before he looked inside to see a hairless woman with various scars on her body reluctantly walk out. Underneath the light, she winced at such contact while blinking her eyes. She had to be stuck in that pod for a very long time if that was the case. Then her eyes looked around the room, trying to bring her a sense of recognition for her.

"Are you alright?" He wondered.

At first, the stranger's mouth opens, but not a single word escapes. Her hand slowly reached to her throat before she blinked in surprise. Then it began to make its way to the lock as her thumb appeared to press down on it.

Rather than risk the possibility of letting Angelique and Cass get killed out of curiosity, the stalker caught her attention. "No, don't do that?"

Her hand paused before glancing at him. The woman took a step back as she clenched her fists.

"You're collar is connected to a few others." Artyom replied. "One of my friends has those bomb collars on her, I don't want you to accidentally kill them."

The stranger's eyes nodded her head before she made strange gestures with her hands.

Despite his willingness to help, he couldn't understand what she was trying to make out. "I apologize for being blunt, but I have no clue what you're trying to say."

She shook her head at him, but nodded to the door.

"You want to go that way?"

The woman nodded.

"Wait here, there's a speaker there that might make your head explode. I'm trying to find out a way to turn it off… somehow. Can you wait here for awhile?" Artyom requested out of her.

She nodded.

Then he reached for his knapsack and pulled out a 9mm sub-machine gun. "Here, I'm not using it right now and I think you might need some protection." After he handed her the weapon, he gave her all the ammo that weapon used.

When he walked out of the room, there was only one place left, the second floor. Jogging through the hallways and making his way up the stairs, Artyom arrived at another set of hallways, but there was something strange on the corner of his eye.

A phantom of a blue armored man patrolled the hallway with ease. After it reached the far end of the hallway, it turned around and stopped. The color changed yellow as it made hand-gestures at him. Why it would do such a thing, he would never know. Then it changed into crimson red before red beams flew after him after such inaction.

Artyom fired his automatic rifle, but the result did little to comfort him. The bullets flew through the blue figure as he became terrified at what he was facing. While the magazine turned dry, one of his bullets flew past the hologram, but struck a blue object attached to the wall. In a single moment, the hologram disappeared at its destruction before he lowered its weapon.

The person didn't fall to his gunfire, but that small blue device somehow… killed it. Maybe if he talked to Angelique about it, she could explain it.

The young man stormed into the rooms and began to scavenge what he could find. Aside from other items he cared little for, there was an occasional pile of Sierra Madre chips in the cabinets. However, the stalker discovered a room with one of those working computers. Before he considered cleaning the desks of anything of value, Artyom saw a set of keys with a note beside it.

When he got his hands on it, there was an old dusty note that was referring to a man named Steve for checking on the generators in the basement. Then he realized what it was referring to. The basement that brought him to this clinic. "I better check it out." He thought to himself before running down the sets of stairs again and going back into the basement.

By the time he reached the base of the stairs, the room was filled with ghost people as they flooded through the tunnel opening. Their eyes turned their full attention on him while he noticed two box-like machines past them whining loud with electricity.

Artyom reached for his grenade and his lighter before lighting the fuze then tossing the makeshift ordnance towards the inhabitants of the villa. He watched with surprise when the grenade landed atop before the room was filled with a violent explosion.

One of the ghost people stumbled towards him with a knife in hand. Despite having the opportunity to run him through, the stalker reached for his revolver and gunned him down. Although it fell to the damage he caused, he unsheathed his trench knife and began to descend upon the unconscious being.

* * *

The cloud had overtaken him. He was one of them, partially. Yet, by sheer will alone he refused to succumb to being a mindless animal living on baser instincts alone. A pack decided to descend upon the Medical Clinic, but he put them down like the dogs they were. Their bodies lay in the street, broken by his skill in combat. However, he couldn't stay for long.

It had been enough time since his previous departure with the young man, but he wouldn't let his last memory be destroyed by this transformation of his. As soon as he would walk out of those doors, more of them will come and he would need something to fight back. He placed two weapons on the ground along with some extra ammunition and air filters for him.

Silent warrior pulled out a postcard of Saint Petersburg and placed it atop of the weapon. The stalker would be asking questions, but that moment will never happen. He turned away from the main entrance to the clinic and made his way towards the unknown of the Cloud. His last gift left behind for another to carry while the fallen Ranger embraced his departure from this world.

* * *

Author's Note: I finally had a decent reference that wasn't the cheeki breeki. Man does it feel good to get past that.


	23. Chapter 23: Grand Opportunities

When the Medical Clinic had been looted of whatever valuables the building once had, two people stepped out of the building and closed the door shut behind their backs. They were back in the Villa underneath the watchful glare of the Sierra Madre. Whoever this nameless person was, she appeared to be keen on her senses. Although she could not speak, her willingness to follow him into danger gave him comfort. These streets were not safe, even for stalker like him.

Artyom glanced over his shoulder and saw her eyes wincing in pain. "Hey, is there something wrong?" He wondered.

The woman looked at him as tears violently came from her eyes. It must have been outside and the particles from the clouds.

He couldn't blame her. His reaction to this place made him waste a few good air filters for some fresh good air. If this woman couldn't watch his back because of her eyes, she would be a liability. Yet, there was an option that could help her. It wasn't much, but it would keep plenty of that cloud substance out of her eyes. "Here, maybe this will help." Artyom reached for his gas mask and turned the used air filter out. "Wear this, your eyes might not have to worry as much."

She reluctantly accepted his gift to her problem before she wiped the tears from her face. Then she slipped the gas mask over her face.

"Is it working?"

A nod from her head had answered.

"That is good enough." Artyom turned his full attention to the front before he walked into the center of the courtyard. Despite the duo being alone, he was surprised to find something familiar waiting for him in the open. As he stepped forward for closer inspection, the stalker recognized one weapon he had seen Pavel use, but this was fully modified. However, there was another weapon he had not seen before.

When he leaned forward, there was a postcard and a holodisk waiting for him before he got his hands on it. The picture was that of Saint Petersburg, but when he turned it around he was surprised to find some lettering in Russian.

'You will need it, more so than I.' The message began. 'Keep it warm, the power will do the rest. Consider it a gift from an old friend, Artyom.'

There was a pile of air filters and 5.45 bullets for him to use. It was good news, he had more ammunition to use as he inspected the silenced sub-machine gun before his very eyes. Then he turned his full attention on the next weapon. It was unlike anything he had ever seen, but what did the person mean when he said '...keep it warm.' A relief for him in terms of firepower.

He looked at his newfound companion, whose eyes looked at the surrounding area. "Watch my back, I have to do something." Then he brought out his Bastard gun and slipped the magazine out from his makeshift gun before getting his hands on his new silenced weapon. The magazines contained a smaller number of bullets, but maybe that was one of the drawbacks for this weapon. However, his eyes noticed the serial numbers. It was one of those pre-war weapons he had seen before.

Artyom slipped his empty Bastard gun into his knapsack before he slung the silenced sub-machine gun over his shoulder. Then he began to make his way towards the second weapon placed in the open for him. As he got ahold of the strange makeshift weapon, he felt it's weight burden his arms. Perhaps it was a price for carrying a weapon with such firepower. Exhibition's armory occasionally had special weapons that he could never afford, but he seen such on a Ranger accompanying Hunter.

The duo turned their heads in the direction of explosions that had erupted in their first moments outside of the Medical Clinic. Then the stalker took a glance at the woman. "I think those are coming from my friends. Would you mind if I lead the way to find them?"

The silent woman nodded. That would have to mean a yes.

When they proceeded to walk through the streets alone, Artyom pulled out his trusty revolver as he hoped to find his way back to the others.

* * *

Details, he always had to watch out for the small details like an artist. Ever since the Polis Rangers sent a stalker to observe the anomaly, he was surprised at the very least. Anomalies were common in the Metro, but his kind was different. It had brought him to a new place, perhaps new world was a better term to describe a land made up of sand and rock.

Going through the remains of a city, Timur watched over a street with his Clapper in hand. These Fiends that the strange woman told him came from this part of the city. While the various armies of the Metro were settling a base camp on this side of the world, his superior gave him the go to scout ahead. If people like that woman existed, there had to be some civilized people walking around these parts.

He kept reminding him that he was heading towards the east after the sun went down. Every now and then, he would have to hide in the smallest corner and watch as a… patrol of Fiends walked past him. Nothing about them was sane, their bodies occasionally appeared to be full of abuse or had needle marks on their arms. What kind of drugs had they been on?

The Metro used to have drugs like cocaine, but Hanza banned it from every station within their own territory. Because they were the ones people went to buy items, they had to adhere to their terms in order to buy their items. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise before someone decided a more… safer alternative with mushroom hashish.

As he continued further along the right side of the road, he noticed two figures walking towards on the opposite side. Timur didn't know if they were Fiends, but he took refuge in an abandoned shop on his side. Although the night reduced visibility, he had the advantage when he lowered his night vision goggles.

When the world could be seen through different variations of green, he rested his rifle upon the window sill and observed the duo. Most of the Fiends he seen wore armor that revealed plenty of their skin to the naked eye, but these two were different. Their clothes appeared to be a uniform while they both wore two red berets as they made their way into a corner three-story building. Those two couldn't be Fiends, it was inconsistent with the others he had seen.

Then again, details.

He would have to steer clear from those two, meeting them might be worth the report sending back to the Red Line and their… allies. However, they might also be his last steps.

Before he thought of proceeding past them, there was movement coming from his side of the road across from the building those two took refuge in. Four Fiends crossed the road. There were three men and one slender figure among them, but their armor was the identifier. However, one of the men was large and tall while he carried a heavy weapon in his arms compared to those who followed him.

The party stopped at the front of the door as he looked to the others. Through the scope, he could see that he was the one in charge while the others smiled greedily. Then he left his weapon on the ground for the trio as he made his way inside. Maybe they were meeting with the duo.

His scope looked up on the windows of the broken building, hoping if those two could be seen. Maybe they were the ones that orchestrated the attack upon the Metro?

Upon the third story window, left side, one was spotting the other was the shooter. Based on the way the spotter's hands were guiding the sniper, it appeared she was the veteran. It couldn't be a meeting if they were getting into a sniper spot. Then the large burly man appeared through his scope as the two snipers tried to fight back.

Yet, the large man tossed one of them aside and he didn't get up. The second person, the spotter tried to fight back, but was overpowered by his sheer strength before a shrieking scream cried out from the building. It was that of a woman. Then he was shocked when he looked back to the trio and heard a cheer from the Fiends outside.

When his sniper rifle saw them, they clapped one-another's hands before they took out various items with needles on the end. They were celebrating.

Even in the post-apocalypse, there was standards and Timur's morals were being tested. This should be abhorred, but these were also the very people who attacked Paveletskaya Station. His emotions were filled with anger as he lined up his weapon towards the Fiends enjoying their moment of joy.

There were times to show mercy, even to the Nazis, but these people deserved none. As he pulled down the trigger, he felt his recoil erupt his targeting while the bullet struck the woman between the two men. When their shock at their dead fellow came apparent, they looked around as another bullet was fired. Then the last man began to pull out his rifle from his shoulder trying to locate him, but it was to no avail when he fired the last shot.

When the Fiend's body fell to the ground, blood seeped onto the concrete as Timur stepped out of the building and made his way towards the building. More screaming echoed into the night while the woman still fought back. "Back off, fucker!"

After he entered through the doorway, the sniper made his way up the stairs avoiding the possibility of getting side tracked by furniture and making noise. He was afraid the worst would come to the sniper in question with each step.

As he arrived to the top floor, he heard the man's voice for the first time. "The NCR has bitches like you, time you learn to act like one." The eagerness in violating someone never felt so terrible to Timur's ears.

Upon entering the doorway, he saw the large armored Fiend atop of the woman's back as he tried tying a rope on her arms.

"What is it? More NCR bitches?" When his head turned to face him, he was hidden behind a helmet. "Who the fuck are you?"

He dropped his Clapper to the ground before he pulled out his makeshift automatic pistol to bear. Without a single word, he stepped forward to get a closer look of the man's would-be victim. "Step away from her." Timur ordered in a calm and cold tone.

Despite his initial threat, the man was not intimidated. "Looks like I have another one who wants to see his own guts. Let's have at it." As he stepped away from the tied up sniper, he walked towards him as he cracked his knuckles. Unlike the other Fiends, this one was heavily armored.

Not a second too soon, his trigger finger held down the trigger as forty-four magnum bullets flew into the man's chest piece. His target stumbled back by the force that kept blocking his rounds; however, it was pushing him over to the window.

"Shit, I'm going to kick your ass!"

Timur was not afraid as he ran forward and kicked the man out the window. As the man screamed to the ground, the sniper leaned over the window sill and took off the mutant leather skin covering his face. A simple spit was all that was needed from him, nothing to be said from him before covering his mouth from the outside once again.

His attention returned back to the tied up sniper. Her shaved head turned towards him as she rose from the ground. "Who the hell are you?" She asked. He unsheathed his knife and cut her from bondage as she felt the nakedness of her wrists. "Didn't you hear me?"

Then he made his way towards his sniper rifle on the ground. "I did, but didn't want to talk." The Red sniper replied before slinging his Clapper over his shoulder.

"Good to know someone is listening. What the hell are you doing here? This place is dangerous."

He chuckled at the thought. "So am I." Then he glanced towards the second sniper waking up from his slumber.

The young dark-skinned man woke up and groaned. "Betsss-sy, what happened?"

She made her way towards him and began checking his health. "Cook-Cook ambushed us. You were lucky, he didn't try to take your pants off." Then she glanced over at the sniper. "Thanks for helping us out and rescuing me. What's your name?"

"My name is Timur." The communist answered. "I'm currently looking for a place called Camp McCarran. Do you know where it is?"

"Have you been living under a rock? Of course I know where it is, it's a military base for the NCR."

"Not exactly, more like a new arrival."

"Must be a mercenary if you came all this way to McCarran." Betsy replied. "Help Ten of Spades, I'll lead you to Major Dhatri. I don't want to risk another night like this."

"Ladna." Then he made his way towards the sniper lying on the ground. "Get up, comrade. You sleep later."

"V-very funny."

* * *

Artyom was surprised that the way to the fountain was short; however, he was filled with relief when he recognized a few familiar faces. God was present, staring at the fountain's hologram as if something might happen. Yet, there was another person, Cass. He rushed forth and called out her name. "Cass!"

The caravanner and the super mutant nightkin expressed their shock as they stood in place. He waved his hands towards them with a smile. As she remained frozen, he made his way towards them as she reluctantly made her way towards him. "Artyom, how the hell did you escape the ghost people?" The Rose of Sharon Cassidy asked. "I thought you would be dead by now."

"They dragged me into a tunnel system, but I was brought into the basement of some clinic." He replied. "I managed to close the exit before the others could flood the building."

A warm smile was all she could bring. "You're lucky. I was just about to drink all of my whiskey down."

"Knowing you, you would have done it without a second thought. Where are the others?"

Cass glanced over to the opposite side of the fountain courtyard. "Ever since you were seperated from us, they accepted the fact you were dead. Angelique and the others agreed to find one of the others with the bomb collars, but God didn't want to go. He said he didn't want to do the old man's bidding without seeing him first."

"I don't exactly blame him." Artyom replied.

She looked past him as she noticed the person following him. "Whose she?"

Turning around, the stalker saw the stranger take off his gas mask and handed it to him. "I don't know." Came his answer. "She was someone I found in the Medical Clinic and was locked up in one of those machines."

"The gal must have a name."

"She can not talk. Something happened to her voice and maybe it's part of the reason why she all those scars."

The tall lumbering super mutant nightkin stepped forward and joined them. "We see each other again, Artyom. I thought the cloud would have taken you, but you proved me wrong."

"I tend to have that effect on people." Artyom stated. "One time, my trolley got attacked by the usual tunnel trash and I was knocked out of my seat. They were surprised to see me before they lit the entire tunnel with a flamethrower."

God chuckled as Cass glanced at him. "Wait a minute, do you mean this isn't the first time something like this happened to you?"

He shook his head. "No, not at all. I believe it was my second or third time I got dragged away from a large group of people and lived." Another explosion erupted as the group turned their full attention towards the commotion. "Is that Angelique's doing?"

"Yeah. Looks like they're getting the last guy out."

Out from the streets, four figures walked out from the recent explosion as a laugh escaped from one of two men walking up to them. "It's been awhile since I blew something up. Feels good to have that adrenaline rush." It was Pavel.

Then he heard Angelique's voice was not amused by his actions. "You were tossing frag mines at ghost people carrying bombs. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You don't know good fun like I do."

A third voice spoke up, but the man was a stranger to Artyom's ears. "I will agree with the lady. As much as I love a good show of fireworks, you lacked the finesse that normal people wouldn't even applaud. Then again, I'm in the company of tourists I shouldn't expect any less."

However, Veronica spoke up at their conversation. "Maybe we should put this all away over some drinks."

"I could use that." The stranger spoke. "A good drink never spoils than say, the company."

When the four were close enough, Artyom was disturbed by the sight of the man in their company. His skin appeared to be peeling off, but he was still alive and talking. If those sights were true, it must have been painful for him to endure that kind of punishment on his body.

"Oh look, more tourists to treat. This is enough for a party if we had any drinks to complement the guests."

"No worries, Cass has some whiskey with her if she's willing to offer." Veronica replied.

The caravanner shook her head. "None of you are never going to get my whiskey." She answered. "However, I do have some good news if anyone is willing."

Three of the four stopped in their tracks as they noticed Artyom's presence. Angelique was quick to walk towards him. "How the hell did you survive? I thought the ghost people already killed you?"

The stalker chuckled at the reaction. "Apparently, they were slacking off trying to kill me."

The communist among them laughed. "You are a lucky man, Artyom. Death must have gotten lazy if you lived."

"Would someone explain to me what is going on here?" The almost dead man wondered. "It's not that I know all of you."

"One of our pals was captured by the ghost people earlier." Stated Pavel. "Somehow, he miraculously escaped them."

"That is something to celebrate, but shouldn't we get to the matter at hand. Such as getting these ties off our necks."

Amidst the reception of being welcomed back into the group, Veronica's attention was focused elsewhere and he noticed it. She was concerned with a different matter entirely as she quietly made her way towards the strange woman he rescued from the clinic. However, she appeared to have recognized the woman with the surgical scars. "Christine?"

The stranger's head reacted to the name from the Brotherhood Scribe.

When the revelation of the woman's identity became apparent, Angelique noticed Veronica's reluctant to speak. "You know her?"

She nodded her head. "Yeah. Christine is from the Circle of Steel and... she was my girlfriend."

The ugly man with the shades began to comment. "Incredible, the drama is killing me."

* * *

When Timur had arrived to the entrance of the camp, he noticed the many curious glances coming from the soldiers atop of the walls and outside of it. As Betsy knocked on the door, it opened without a question as the foreign soldiers allowed her, the spotter, and of course, him into the perimeter.

This place was more of a fort than a camp in his eyes. Walls and towers to provide defense while choke points to funnel attackers to their deaths. Problem was so much unused space that could have been used for other issues.

Betsy and Ten of Spades noticed another soldier wearing a red beret walking up to them as he smoke a cigarette. They saluted his arrival before taking the butt out from his lips. "Betsy, I thought you were training the new guy while going after Cook-Cook."

The woman nodded her head. "Yes sir, but Cook-Cook got the jump on us."

"I see. What happened?"

"Well sir, he knocked out Spades before he tried to tie me up." Then she paused for a moment.

Timur noticed her reluctance to speak about the moment, but he knew that the idea of being raped was not a matter to speak so lightly. "The fucker had sick intentions." He commented.

Betsy's and Ten of Spades' superior noticed him. "Who is he?"

"Sir, he looks like a merc who was passing by. He managed to get rid of Cook-Cook and his crew before the situation got worse." Betsy replied.

The man stepped forward to greet him with his hand out. "Thank you for helping out my snipers. I appreciate that. What's your name?"

"My name is Timur Glazkov."

"Lieutenant Gorobets, 1st Recon Alpha Team."

"Gorobets? That name is-"

"Weird?" He thought. "Trust me, I know. Don't know where it came from."

"No, I'm familiar with the surname. It's Ukrainian."

"How would you know?" The lieutenant asked.

"I am a Russian from Moscow."

The snipers turned their full attention towards him with Betsy filled with disbelief. "Bullshit, just because you have a fancy accent doesn't mean anything."

"Do you really want proof?"

"Betsy, calm down. I'm sure we can discuss this elsewhere."

However, Timur had other plans in mind. "Lieutenant Gorobets, I need to speak with your superior."

"Why is that?" He wondered. "Unless you're a mercenary, you don't look too important."

"With respect, I'm a sniper from the Red Line. The reason why I'm here is because I have orders to scout out the locations from the base camp. However, it's on the other side of those Fiend patrols."

Gorobets was filled with confusion. "Red Line, I never heard of it."

"We're recent arrivals, none of you would believe me if I told you how I got here from Moscow." Timur replied.

"You're going to have to wait. Fiends tend to attack in the morning, but I'll talk with the major and see if he's willing to talk. Wait here." He ordered.

As he departed from the snipers, Ten of Spades looked up at him behind his face wrap. "Y-You're a Russian?" He asked.

"Da." Timur answered.

"Cool. Heard about you guys in some old books, but never thought I meet one."

"I could say the name for you Americans."

Betsy spoke, but corrected him. "We're not Americans, were Californians. NCR if you want for short."

He chuckled at the thought. "All the same to me." Then he reached for his small radio pack and spoke. "Glaz to base camp, I've made contact with friendlies."

"Who are you talking to?"

"My superior."

A static whine came to life before it became clear for a voice replied. "Copy that, tovarich. We'll report to Polis Rangers, return if possible."

* * *

Author's Note: When I looked up Betsy's commanding officer, I was bit surprised before I made some last-minute adjustments. Interesting bit there, Fallout lore.


	24. Chapter 24: The House of Greed

After learning about their two newest members of the group, Artyom felt disturbed knowing that the scarred man in the shades used to be a famous man before the war. However, his reasons to remain was to spite the very man who built the Sierra Madre in the first place. As for Christine, she was part of an organization within the Brotherhood of Steel, but what reason would she have to come to the Sierra Madre.

While Veronica was assisted by Pavel for sign language or his best attempts at it, the entire party remained at the fountain. Until the situation was ready for everyone to meet with Father Elijah, they couldn't proceed any further.

Cass sat on the fountain as she stared at the gates leading out of the villa. With little to do with the others, Artyom took his seat beside her. "It's just walking distance away." She commented. "The only thing keeping me back is that old man like a father keeping her virgin strapped to a chair."

He smiled at her sense of humor. "Not the way I would put it, but seeing how we're stuck here. I suppose it will have to do. If we continue helping that old man, maybe he'll let us leave."

"That is a big fucking if. I don't know about you, but putting my trust in that old man is not going to happen. For all we know, he'll have to blow our heads open just after he gets his treasure."

"It's a possibility, not a guarantee. That man, I have a gut feeling he won't let us go so easily." He answered.

Then the woman's tone felt saddened. "Maybe this is the reason why my dad didn't come back after all of these years." She commented. "He came all this way in the wasteland, only to go missing and maybe die. Perhaps I should make it quick and meet him right now."

"Don't talk like that. Maybe it's the collar itching your neck. You wouldn't risk the lives of the others just for your own sake."

"Why not? You and Pavel are stuck here because of Angelique and I. We're holding you back." Cass replied. "I definitely wonder if there is an afterlife if I try."

Common sense and experience began to take over. "I've been there." Artyom began. "It's not a nice place to be there."

"Hold up-you're saying you've been to the afterlife?"

"It was only for a moment, but it's not hard to forget that moment. During my first time outside of my home station, I had a guide with me who was leading to Prospekt Mira. However, we stumbled into a place full of corpses. I've seen my share of fighting before, but this was different."

"How different is it really?"

"My home is occasionally attacked by mutants, but the creatures always mutilate the bodies when they eat. The bodies didn't have a single scratch and neither did they have a single bullet spent. After I looted what I could off of them, my guide and I were fainting for some odd reason." Artyom answered. "Then we were brought before the door. I don't know which door it was, but the bodies of the stalkers before us were untouched as if they died a few hours ago."

"Maybe it was a dream, nothing too serious?" Cass reasoned. "For all you know, you may have been seeing shit."

He scoffed at the thought. "I thought the same, but looking back makes me wonder. Remember the guide I had? We agreed to help me reach to Polis if I made sure that my resistance to anomalies would protect him as well." The stalker stated. "I wish it was complete bullshit, but what we faced there was different. Bourbon and I agreed that what happened to us was weird and real."

"You really got to see the other side. What was it like? Not everyone can say they've been there unless they're a delusional knucklehead high on chems. Now I find it hard to believe you, but once you showed me the Dark fellows I don't know whether I should trust your word about that."

"It is true." He said firmly. "Had the Dark Ones not pulled us out, I feared the great door would have taken me like those other stalkers."

"You're telling me this so I don't off myself."

"Having the hope you'll be on the best side of the afterlife is different than being enthusiastic about embracing death, only for those expectations never being met."

"You don't want me to die."

"Yes."

The caravanner smiled. "Lots of guys would love to be in your position."

"How so?"

"Trust me, I know. A romantic would love to be the one to rescue his gal from her asshole."

"I don't understand what you're talking about?" He wondered. "Is it something about your culture?"

Then her smile disappeared. "Nevermind, we should ask Angelique when do we get to the next step."

Shoes clicked at each step as the… inhabitant of this place stepped forward to join them. "Pardon me for my intrusion, but may I join two colorful personalities away from the others?"

"Why the hell should I care? I don't know you." Cass hissed, her words of venom apparent to the man in the suit and tie.

"Perhaps I should introduce myself." He bowed before the two sitting on the fountain. "I am Dean Domino, an illustrious singer who stands before you. Well, I was before the bombs fell and transformed me into this undignified state you currently see me in." Then he lifted his head and slipped one of his hands into a pocket whereas the other hand was busy holding his cigar. "I overheard your ringleader speak of your background. Artyom, I presume?" Dean pulled out his free hand and gave it to him.

Rather than disrespect a former pre-war survivor, the stalker reluctantly brought his hand out and shook his hand. "Yes. It's rather an honor to meet someone like yourself, even though I haven't heard of you."

A smile appeared on his face. "Yet, you are someone I am relieved to see. I wonder how a Russian such as you have stumbled into this place."

"I don't know how to put it, but I have no idea. One day I was in the Moscow Metro, the next I ended up here." Artyom answered. "The only explanation for that would be anomalies." He really didn't want to discuss the matter of the Dark Ones so easily. Some questions would be brought up if he didn't mention them in the first place. "However, the Mojave does not appear to have them."

"Interesting, what is your first impression of the Sierra Madre?"

"A hell hole."

Dean nodded his head in approval. "Not the way I would put it." He replied. "But you're not entirely wrong. Had you been here in my time, you would have been met with a wonderful sight. It was beauty, but you're right. I'm not fond of it's bleakness and its inhabitants. Perhaps I should have left when I had the chance."

"Why did you stay here? This place is no place to live."

"It's because of Sinclair's vault, the very reason why you tourists come here in the first place."

Curious about this place's history, Artyom continued to ask. "Who was he?"

"Him? The man who built this place, the vault, the casino, everything. All of it to honor the very woman he loved." The ghoul answered. "Poor fool spent a fortune trying to display his tribute. I'm rather jealous of him. He died before me."

"Still, you could have left when you had a chance?"

"And not have the opportunity to insult the man centuries later? I wouldn't pass that up. He tried things as if he was doing everyone a favor. Yet, here I am an old wreck whose face is nothing more than a pickled herring."

Cass began to comment. "A what?"

"Swedish fish, I'm sure none of you won't have a clue what a fish is in the first place."

"I know what a fish is." The stalker replied. "If some of the people I know are correct, pickled herring is a weird fish."

"Ah, finally a tourist who has some degree of intelligence."

"Was that a complement?"

"Truly. I'm old and I'm sure most of the things I speak of are already dead at this time." Dean answered. "It's good to know someone knows some knowledge I can… relate to."

Angelique's voice was loud and clear. "We are now going to talk to Elijah." She stated. "Let's get this over with."

The party stood up and congregated around the fountain as the courier walked up to the hologram display, only to have a single tile lift in a forty-five degree angle. Everyone silently observed as the image of the woman disappeared, only to allow the holographic image of Father Elijah stand before him. "What is it? Have all of you done what I've asked?" He demanded.

"Yeah." She answered. "We got everyone you wanted to get."

A smile fell upon his lips. "Good. Very good. You know how to take orders well, girl."

Artyom took notice of the woman clenching her fists. He was sure she didn't like that arrogance this man gave.

Then Elijah's attention looked elsewhere. "Ah, Veronica. It's good to see that you are alive. Allow me to assure you, your companions will be free by the time we are done." His eyes returned back on the courier. "In order to open the Sierra Madre, I have learned that we need more than a single person." The old man said.

"What will you have us do?" The stalker wondered.

"There are three tasks all of you will need to do." He began. "The first is to unleash the fireworks. The second? Bring up the music. Last, but not least, power up the Villa. Once these requirements are finished, the Casino will open its doors and all of you will have the opportunity to get inside. I will not keep you any longer, but be quick about it." The holographic image of the old man disappeared as the projector turned off.

Then God spoke. "So that is what the old man looks like. Now I will remember his face. He will pay."

"Don't get too excited." Angelique commented. "We still have plenty to do."

"I know, but I will not be going to my position alone. I don't trust any of you."

"We freed you."

"No, I freed myself. Your companion merely convinced me I should go out. Now I should return back to the cage."

However, Dean Domino scoffed at his reluctance. "I would implore all of you that we still have these neckties, but I prefer something fashionable. Let all of us worry about each other after we remove him."

"Why should I care about what you say? You've lived here long enough, but never had the opportunity to end him right now." God replied. "You wasted it."

"Unlike you, I'm a very patient man. I have the years to overcome all of you. Don't think my frail old body can't take a dog like yourself."

Artyom stepped between the two imprisoned victims of Father Elijah's machinations. "Enough!" He said in a firm tone. Let's open those doors so Elijah can show himself and we can all put him down. Then we can all go our separate ways and forget about this whole entire incident."

"That is easy for you to say. You don't have one around your neck."

"I know that, but I came here to rescue Cass and Angelique from that man. Since their lives are stuck with yours, I intend that all of you get out of this _alive._ The mere fact we've managed to tolerate one-another is enough. I'm tired of this shithole and the others are sure to agree."

"Really? I don't know too many people who would want to forfeit their potential fortune for their lives."

"Tell, in all your years, how many people have died just for that?"

Dean looked up at the red sky to contemplate. "Too many to count. Far too many tourists have met their end in this dreary place, but what makes you different?"

"I have my reasons, trust me." Then Artyom glanced over to the courier. "Angelique, do we have a plan to work with?"

She nodded her head as she presented her Pip-Boy. "Get around me and have a good look." The blonde ordered. As the party began to surround her while she presented the map, she began pointing at some of the various locations on the map. "Here are the three positions. We'll split off into four groups. The three will be positioned where Elijah wants us to be, but the fourth group will be the one to start everything once everything is set. Who wants to pair up with who?" She wondered.

Veronica raised her powerfist. "I'm going with Christine."

"Are you sure?"

"We have plenty to catch up on and I prefer to be alone while we still can." The scribe explained.

Angelique nodded her head. "I understand, personal." Then she glanced to Dean Domino. "Dean, you're going to go on top of the rooftops."

The ghoul lowered his shades and began to wonder. "Okay, but is someone coming along. I'm not going if no one is accompanying me."

She glanced over to the others. "The communist will join you."

The Red Line soldier raised an eyebrow. "You want me to accompany him of all people?"

"You have a problem with that?"

Dean allowed a chuckle to escape before covering his eyes from the world once again. "I won't mind. It's been ages since I had a decent political discussion with an opponent. Maybe this will be enlightening to know?"

The last person to remain was the nightkin, God. "So who shall I accompany?" He wondered.

Angelique looked to the two free people who remained. "Artyom, Angelique?"

The caravanner stepped forward and loaded her shotgun. "Don't worry, I'll keep an eye out on the guy. It shouldn't be too bad."

Artyom turned his full attention on the courier. "I guess I'm stuck with you."

She nodded her head. "Try to keep up with your partners, everyone. We'll all need it."

When the party finally fractured, the stalker and the courier were walking together into a lonely path towards their destination. Once they were away from the others, she broke the silence. "I've noticed you got some new weapons. Mind sharing where you got them?" She wondered.

The Russian inspected his weapon for a moment, before walking beside her. "Someone left them for me. I don't know who, but when I left the Medical Clinic someone wanted me to have it."

"Really? We didn't even go there."

"I know." Artyom added. "There is a possibility it might be one of those ghost people, but there is a problem."

"How so?" Angelique wondered. "Ghost people like to gift people before ambushing them. What makes this no different?"

"Somebody wrote a note behind the postcard, but there is one detail I can't get out of my head. It was written in Russian."

"Now that is some spooky shit, right there."

* * *

The duo had trekked their way through buildings and alleys, while surviving the toxic impact of the clouds. After some close calls of some radios almost killing the courier, their path was safe. However, there was an occasional pack of ghost people who would encounter them before gunning them down and then making sure they were truly dead.

Then they arrived at a courtyard, only to encounter five ghost people rushing after them. Two were throwing their spears after them while the rest stumbled forth with knives at the ready. Artyom raised his new weapon, baptised through the recent killings. With the help of the laser sight, he merely needed to point the weapon where the red dot would be and let the trigger do the rest. Using the scope wasn't necessary for such close engagements. Two bursts of suppressed gunfire peppered the two ghost people, their bodies stumbling back and succumbing to the damage of his sub-machine gun.

Angelique fired her plasma gun, unleashing streams of heat into the targets. The first had its head melted off, the second lost a limb, but the third began to melt before her. "There we go, the courtyard is clear."

Walking up to the two fallen ghost people, Artyom slung his weapon over his shoulder and drew his untested makeshift weapon. The ammo consisted of ball-bearings while it contained a battery charger with it's power around the eighty-five percent range. His free hand took ahold of the clamp and began charging the battery, increasing the electricity within.

"Artyom, what are you doing?" She asked.

Once the needle reached its full potential, he aimed his weapon at the head of the fallen, but not dead ghost person. "Weapon testing." He said before pulling a trigger. Then his weapon sparked to life as his projectile made the ghost person's head explode into a green mess. Artyom turned his attention onto the other fallen ghost person and fired once more. "This weapon, it feels powerful."

"Whatever that thing is, conserve the ammo. You'll need that." Her head turned towards the building before them as the stalker looked up and noticed the tower above. "We're both needed here." The courier stated. "Hopefully, the others are ready."

The two began to make their way into the building before they were met with a ladder. After the courier began, he followed after her, but with each climb he felt afraid. This dead town was filled with buildings that weren't maintained. There was a large possibility that anything could break and this building could collapse on itself if it so wished.

When Artyom arrived at the top floor, he found Angelique immediately at work on a console placed before the window. This was the control tower, the place that would have opened the Sierra Madre when there was a chance. Too bad that never happened.

On the courier's Pip-Boy, he could hear the voices from the various teams call out to her.

"Christine and I are ready?"

"Pavel and I are ready, but do make this quick. Once the music starts playing, the ghost people will attend our little party."

"When do I start turning this on?"

The courier placed her weapon on the side and adjusted the console to her bidding. "Hold up it will take me some time."

Meanwhile, he took the opportunity to scavenge around, only to find more of those strange holodisks and stimpacks. It wasn't much, but it was preferable than finding nothing at all.

"Alright, I'm ready."

Elijah's voice came to life, filled with enthusiasm. "Are you up in the belltower? Good. The gates will open at the crackle in the sky. The bell will toll for us."

Artyom observed the courier push a button on the console as music filled the air. The sounds of an ancient time when people wouldn't have cared as much. Now it was the cry of the damned enthralling those who would have gone into the Sierra Madre without a question. A thunder crackled in the skies while searchlights, long forgotten, turned on for this very occasion and perhaps the only one.

"The Sierra Madre is open, now get inside before the ghost people do."

The young man began to head the wisdom of Dean Domino as he looked outside of the tower and down below. While the bodies of the previous pack were present, more ghost people were there and converging on their position. As Angelique grabbed her plasma gun, she took the lead. "Come on, we got to go."

He slipped his silenced weapon off from his shoulder and lined up the scope with his eye. "They're coming for us. While you head down, I'll try to pick them off from up here. Can you handle that?"

"How many are down there?"

Through the scope, it started out with five ghost people, but more arrived in greater numbers. "About a dozen." Artyom answered. "Once the courtyard is clear, I'll join you and we head into the casino together."

"Okay, but don't take your sweet time up here." Then she made her way down the ladder while he lined up a shot.

When his finger reached the trigger, he knew what was to come. The ghost people were hard to kill and conserving his ammunition was key when fighting them. Their heads appeared to be decent targets just before one of them came into his crosshairs. Then his finger began to squeeze the trigger.

* * *

They had dodged the many traps that would have gotten them killed. Bear traps, shielded radios, and even simple land mines. After they ran through the gates, Artyom and Angelique stormed through the door while a couple dozen ghost people noticed their rush.

When they reached the main doors of the casino, Artyom turned around with his sub-machine gun at the ready while he waited for the courier to open the doors. Pairs of green eyes stumbled towards him, some even attempting to throw spears at him despite landing short. Their sheer determination was not something to disregard.

He felt the courier tap his shoulder before he quickly joined her and slipped through the doors before locking them shut, leaving the walking dead behind.

Angelique started laughing in relief. "Damn, they almost had us." She commented before it disappeared. Strange, what was going on with her? Then the young woman slumped to the ground, but she wasn't the only one.

Looking around, Artyom witnessed members of his group lying on the ground together. What caused this in the first place? However, small whiff of a strange scent was enough to catch his attention, but this was stronger than the stuff used in that one place. He reached for his gas mask, hoping it would prevent this sleeping gas from knocking him out. Yet, the stalker was too late when his legs failed to support him while his gas mask was in his hand.

When he landed onto the dusty marble floor, Artyom fell into a deep slumber. Nothing, but blackness was all his mind could think off.

A voice, a familiar one, called out to him. Whether it was future sign or a dream, he heard him speak. "It's okay Artyom, I'm right here."

How could it be? He should have died. Then his lips called out to an old familiar friend. "Hunter?"


	25. Chapter 25: Passing a Torch

Artyom found himself in another dream-like state, but he recognized the familiar signs of the tunnels. He felt free and no longer helpless like the previous encounters; however, he was not alone. When he brought his upper body off the ground, the young man saw a woman in a black-red dress sitting on the ground crying with her back faced against him. Whoever this stranger was, she needed someone to comfort her.

Before he had any thoughts of getting off the ground, there were the sounds of footsteps coming from behind his back. A tall shadow fell over him before the person walked beside him and squatted beside him. For some odd reason, Artyom felt familiar around this man. When the stranger turned his head around to see him, the young man was shocked to find out who he was.

The man who encouraged him to leave his station was squatting before him with a smile. "Hello, Artyom." He began. "How have you've been?"

The stalker sat up with awe. "Hunter, what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to check up on you." The Ranger replied as he took off his helmet, revealing his short brown hair. "How is everything going?"

"I-I failed," Artyom replied, looking down on the ground. "I was supposed to get your message to Polis, but I could never get through."

A chuckle escaped from the older man. "I know you've tried."

"How? Back home, my station is still under attack."

He placed his hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, they're safe. Sukhoi and the others are doing well. I'm proud of you."

"For what? I let you down."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. There was nothing you could have done." Hunter sat down beside him. "I know you were reluctant to leave, especially with him trying to coddle you. I don't blame him."

"Why are you here?" Artyom wondered.

"Have you ever wondered who gave you those weapons?"

He was filled with surprise. "You were the one who gave them. Where can I find you?"

Hunter's smile disappeared. "I'm sorry, but you can't. The only reason you're seeing me here is that I've been given permission and enough time to help you."

Fear filled the young man. "You're dead."

"Yes." Then he handed his helmet over to him before slipping his body armor off his uniform. "Here, you'll need it more than me."

"Why are you doing this?"

Hunter paused for a moment as honest eyes looked into Artyom's soul. "In the future, you will be given a great task that might be beyond your capabilities." He answered. "I want you to be prepared when it does come."

"What would that be?" Artyom wondered, curious why his dead friend was doing this for him.

"I don't know, but it's dangerous." He replied. "I have to leave you now."

He looked up at his hero as they both stood up to confront each other with the truth. "Hunter, please…"

Then he was met with a hug as he held him close. "You know I can't stay."

"Will we meet again?"

The Ranger released his hold on him and placed a tight grip on his shoulder. "I do not know, but before I leave you must remember this. Everything depends on you and you alone. Make your mother proud." As the young man remained speechless, Hunter turned his back on him and walked towards the crying woman ahead of him. "My dear, allow me to take you away from this dreary place."

On the other side of the tunnel, there was a bright light waiting for Hunter and the strange woman. They walked towards it as Artyom tried to reach out for it. "Hunter…" He tried to take a step forward, but he never had a chance.

* * *

When the stalker woke up, he looked around to find himself back where he was knocked out. He sat up but found the familiar equipment that Hunter used. His helmet, night vision goggles, and even the famous Ranger armor they were renowned to have. This was Hunter's last gift for him before he left to where that strange light led to. Knowing that nobody was going to recognize this armor, Artyom took the opportunity to change out of the Sierra Madre Security armor for the Polis Ranger armor. Unlike the former, the latter felt lighter and had more pockets for his ammunition. After he finished changing into Hunter's armor, the stalker turned his attention towards his party.

Pavel, Veronica, Angelique, and Cass were present and lying on the ground, but there was something wrong. Where were the others? The ghoul, the silent woman, and the super mutant were present when he walked into the Sierra Madre, but now they were gone. "What happened to them?" Artyom wondered to himself.

Angelique's Pip-Boy sparked to life when he heard Father Elijah's voice. "Hello. Is anybody awake?" He called out. "Answer me, damn it!" The old man swore to himself. "I should have had the super mutant reject put collars on them just in case."

Since the woman wearing the device was knocked out, he walked over to her arm and spoke. "Don't worry, the others are okay," Artyom replied. "Something knocked us out."

"Good. Then I think you should be in awe where you are. The power is fluctuating, then that means you're inside. Welcome to the Sierra Madre, in all its glory."

"Do you know what happened to the others?"

"Who? Those people you consider friends?" Elijah replied. "The casino might have moved them." He added.

"How? Are there any people living here?"

"No, of course not." The old man said in disbelief. "The security must have discovered foreign traces - radiation to be precise."

"I'll wake the others."

"Very good, because I believe I'll need to explain this to all of you."

Artyom was quick, to begin with, Angelique as he shook her awake. "Get up, do you hear?" He began. "Angelique, wake up."

A slight moan from the woman reacted at his response. As she opened her eyes, the courier looked up at him. "What happened to me?"

"You were knocked out."

She looked at the others but appeared confused at their number. "Where is everyone else?"

"I don't know, but help me wake Pavel and Cass up." He replied. "Father Elijah isn't finished with us."

Without a word, the young man made his way over to the caravanner and nudged her shoulders with his hand. Awakened from her slumber, the woman rubbed her forehead before her gaze was set upon him. "Artyom, is that you?" She wondered. "You look different and where did you get the armor?"

That was very difficult to explain. "I'll tell you in private, but we need to get going." He paused for a moment. "We're still needed."

She began by waking up the Brotherhood Scribe. "Ugh, I wish there would be a warning next time."

The last to return to the world of reality was the communist, who was disappointed with the interruption. "Damn it!" Pavel swore to himself. "I was having a wonderful dream at a brothel in the Theatre. Now I won't have a chance at that."

"Pavel, you can get laid after we get out of the Sierra Madre," Angelique commented. "Welcome back to the land of the living."

Elijah's voice returned and grabbed their attention. "Good, all of you are awake. If we're going to open the vault, all of you must try and bring the casino out of its slumber. This needs to happen, some areas of the Sierra Madre are impossible to access without the building coming to life."

"What does he mean by that?" Pavel asked.

"Explore the casino, you should find it. That is all."

Cass breathed out a sigh at their situation. "Great, we're going to get ourselves killed in this mess." Then she took a step forward - away from the door, but froze at the mere beep that came from her bomb collar. As she took a step back, she quietly grumbled to herself. "There are some speakers around, does anybody want to start destroying them?"

Angelique took the lead and began to organize the group. "It must be the security, the very same that knocked us out." She theorized. "Cass stay with me. I'm going to check out the terminal behind the desk and check it out. Maybe we might have something to help. Artyom, Pavel, Veronica, check out the casino and find the power from there."

"Destroy the speakers when we come across them?" Artyom wondered.

"Of course."

"Why am I joining them? I could probably hack that terminal faster than you could say brahmin." The scribe wondered.

"No." The courier replied. "These guys don't have a goddamn clue how to use a terminal, much less hacking them. They'll need your expertise."

Veronica crossed her arms. "Looks like I'm picking up the slack."

When the party began to split in two, Pavel looked around and noticed a ghostly figure standing atop of the stairs, staring at him. The communist expressed his discomfort when it turned away and left them. "Damn, that's creepy as fuck." Then he turned his attention towards the section of the casino before him. "Looks like the power should be on the other side of those doors." He said as he leads the way with Artyom and Veronica after him.

When they arrived at the front of the doors, he stopped Artyom and Veronica from stepping through the doors into the casino. "Pavel, what's wrong?"

He glanced over his shoulder, getting a good look at the stalker. "Why do you look like a Polis Ranger?"

The blood on the young man's face froze. He knew he had to answer one way or another. "I found it."

"Found it?" Pavel wasn't convinced. "You don't find armor like that lying around. Where did you get it?"

Despite his questions, the scribe spoke. "Look, I hate to interrupt your questionnaire and all that jazz, but Cass and Angelique want their collars to be off."

Silence came before the communist reached his hand out and unlocked the door. "Ladna, opening up." After the soldier slipped through the doors, he raised his silenced sub-machine gun and turned on his head light. "It's dark in here."

Artyom noted the decorative section of the building with fancy rugs, elaborate pillar designs, and the golden lining shown on the walls. Too bad the bombs fell before people could actually admire such artwork.

Out from the corner of his eye, the stalker noticed movement ahead of Pavel, but he recognized that form before. A glowing blue man strode past the pillars, not recognizing their arrival. However, Pavel was quick to aim his gun at him. "I may be a communist and shouldn't believe in superstition, but is that a fucking ghost?"

The young man shook his head. "No, it's the casino's security. Avoid their line of sight, but try to find some blue device. It shouldn't be hard to find. If they're around then it's close."

Both Russians took safety behind the pillars as they watched the blue hologram, resembling an armored man, walking away. Yet, the lack of presence of the third member of the group was not hiding amongst them. "Veronica where are you?" Pavel asked in a low voice.

"Why are we whispering?" The girl pondered.

"I don't know, do they have any hearing?"

"They're holograms," Veronica answered. "They're only limited by line of sight. I just changed its patrol pattern so one of you guys start finding those device things if you can."

"Let's go Artyom!" He yelled out, sprinting out from the safety of the pillar and running towards the area where the hologram used to be.

Artyom chased after him, only to find him going up the staircase to his left. However, the hologram was making its way back. He quickly ran up the stairs, only to find the communist looking down below with his sub-machine gun pointing at a small blue device.

"Is that the thing you're talking about?" He asked.

The stalker made his way over to the edge of the railing, only to find the hologram device hidden away above the pillars, but close enough to be reached. "Yeah. Shoot it, they'll usually disappear afterward."

Pavel immediately popped the device with a single shot before walking away from him. "Artyom, I'm going to secure the rooms on this level. You try and lurk above those things if there are any more."

"Understood, I'll try."

"No worries, if you fall you'll land on some broken machine."

The Red made his way over the bar as he continued onward. However, Veronica called after them. "Hey guys, is it safe to move forward?"

Before he could respond, Artyom noticed another blue security impersonation of a man walk out from a far corner on the right. It was a slow walk, but it was a walk nonetheless. One of the projections keeping it alive must be from there. "No, not yet." He answered.

"There should be another one on your end. I'm changing their patrol patterns right now." The scribe stated.

After she finished talking, the hologram walked further away from its original arrival. Good, maybe the projector was around the corner. Artyom climbed over the railing and slowly crept forward with his hands out. With each step, he balanced his weight with his hands trying to counterbalance one another.

By the time he reached the other side, the hologram was now patrolling a section of ground in front of a counter protected by steel bars. It hadn't noticed him struggling to balance himself, but that was preferable than getting shot. He looked to his right and saw the blue projector laying on the ground waiting for someone like him to destroy it. Artyom raised his silenced weapon and tapped the trigger. With one shot, the projector shattered apart.

Past the broken projector, the young man noted the door waiting for him. What was inside?

Dropping down from the top of the pillars, Artyom made his way over to the door if there was anything more to protect. When he turned the knob, it was a surprise to find the entire room was a simple closet. His full attention noticed the box attached to the wall on his right. A worn out electrical symbol was obvious even for a fool. He grabbed the lever beside the machine and slammed it down, only to feel the entire building come to life.

Lights came to life, more holograms appeared, but not in the form of security guards. Off in the distance, Artyom heard Pavel's voice shouting in the distance. "Opa, we're live. I was getting tired of getting shot by those things."

When he turned his head out of the closet, he was surprised. There was the same hologram of a woman from before. She was stood there, staring at him for the longest time. However, it flickered for a moment, blinking in and out of existence. The most bizarre moment that ever occurred was that it stopped flickering, but the appearance was different. Instead, of a woman, it was that of a man.

Artyom froze, horrified by what he saw. Hunter's form was now immortalized in hologram form as it saluted its hands towards him. The young man didn't know what to do about this, but the hologram flickered once more and returned back into that of the woman. Soon she walked around the corner, leaving the young man wondering if there was some kind of rational explanation. However, the thoughts about the Sierra Madre being truly haunted made him worry and it churned its stomach.

Father Elijah's voice spoke through the building's speakers. "Good, the systems are back and running online. With security down, it now has the service holograms running. Perhaps you may find something you might like. Once you're done exploring, meet up with the others. You will have to contend with your… friends."

* * *

Author's Note: I'm going to try to split off the unnecessary content into new entries just so they don't congest this fic. It might have been a reason why my reviewer responses dropped so quickly.


	26. Chapter 26: No Strings on Me

Gunfire erupted as Cass and Angelique were firing their weapons at the casino's entrance. The ghost people had broken through the doors and were charging towards them. The caravanner unleashed shotgun blasts that sweep through the numerous people trying to storm through the doors. "I'm surprised this is what it took to break down the casino's doors." She said before emptying the shell casings before loading the next two shotgun shells into place.

Meanwhile, Angelique's plasma gun did her best to unleash streams of hot plasma in the general direction of the ghost people. Their limbs melted, but in some cases entire bodies dissipated into ash. "Less talking more shooting." The courier replied.

Cass was surprised by the sudden reinforcements when she saw gunfire pepper the additional ghost people coming through. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Artyom, Pavel, and Veronica come to their rescue. Artyom and Pavel were quick to unleash their firepower against the inhabitants while Veronica rushed forward and smashed a ghost person apart with a single punch.

When the bodies had fallen, Artyom was quick to sling a weapon off his shoulder and hand it over to her. "Here, I think you'll need it more than me." He added. "It's dead weight for me." Grabbing the automatic rifle, the caravanner felt a great sense of power in her arms. Never in her life would she be carrying something like this for the road.

She expressed a smile in his direction after she loaded the next two 12-gauge shells. "Well, you certainly know how to make my day." After she finished reloading, she slipped the automatic rifle over her shoulder before returning her attention towards the main doors.

Elijah's voice echoed through the speakers. "The ghost people have broken through? I should have foreseen the lack of maintenance by my part. Whatever punishment the doors had endured it couldn't handle the determination of the ghost people. Find your friends, end them."

"End them?" Angelique wondered. "What reason would we have to kill them?"

"They are of no use to you now." He answered. "The Sierra Madre security has placed them in locations where their collars' frequencies are interrupting the music coming out of those rooms. If you want to open vault, they must be eliminated."

"Wouldn't that kill all of us?"

"Not anymore. The signal will only be limited in their parts of the building. Killing them would save you the time before dealing with whatever traps the builder placed for us. Do you really care about their lives over your freedom?"

"No, but it wouldn't hurt."

"Meaningless and futile, but I guess that doesn't matter now." Then the tone of his voice changed. "What is that FEV reject doing? Stop him before he burns the Sierra Madre burns!"

Artyom looked around and whispered, but loud enough to catch his words. "What is God doing?"

Angelique looked away from her Pip-Boy and glanced at the others. "Artyom, Cass, go check up on God through the restaurant and convince him to not burn the entire building down. Veronica and I will find Christine in the executive suite. Pavel, I need you to go to the theater for Dean."

The communist was quick to talk about his role. "You want me to rescue the capitalist? Are you sure about that?"

"Why? Is there a problem?" The courier asked.

"We left on bad terms. Maybe if I had some help, I could. We left on bad terms."

"If that's the case, make sure the ghost people don't get through those doors." She ordered with her finger pointing at the broken entrance. "I don't want this place congested with those things."

"I'll try, but I am just one man."

She stared at Cass. "Then you and Artyom better not take your sweet time."

* * *

After the group had split off, Artyom and Cass walked into the Sierra Madre's restaurant. With their weapons raised, the duo looked around for any potential threats inside. However, they stopped in the middle of the lobby as they heard two voices arguing with one-another. One belonged to God, the other almost sounded like him, but with a different tone. "No… you're not listening to me." God began. "I'm trying… to help you…" He was struggling to speak.

Artyom assumed the other voice was Dog - the beast that God wanted to suppress. "Want to serve Master… am tired of you… Master will set me free."

"Back in the cage… do you know what you're doing? You're going to-"

"-make the casino burn… I will not listen to voice in head… you're annoying…"

"You're a fool…" God countered. "I must take control… you destroy yourself…"

"No… not anymore…" Dog finished on the speaker.

The young man heard Cass call out to him. "Artyom, I got the key."

He hoped God would be alright. The… creature wanted to see him survive this place and he hoped that he would get the chance to see it. To truly prove to him that he did not come to this place out of greed. God's life had to be saved. It was one of the few things he could do in this dreary place.

The duo explored their surroundings as Artyom fired at the speakers and Cass looking for the entrance where God was located. While their conversation of ramblings continued, she called once more. "Here's the door."

When Artyom made his way over to her location, they were presented with a large door. She tried to budge the locks open, but the door refused to loosen its grip.

She shook her head. "No good. I can't seem to get the door open."

Elijah's voice returned. "There must be a back entrance. It won't open until the gas valves are shut down from the inside. Get in there and close them before the nightkin burns all of our work to the ground!"

Knowing the obstacle before them, Artyom took the lead out of the restaurant and made his way out with Cass behind him. When he opened the doors, he saw ghost people walking into the Sierra Madre, but bursts of gunfire had taken their heads out. "Pavel, how are you doing?!" He asked, ignoring the dozens of bodies that were cut down by his gunfire. However, the communist was nowhere to be found.

An empty magazine land in front of him. "I'm doing fine." He replied. Artyom looked up to find the man resting his weapon on the railing of the second floor as he fired his gun one bullet at a time. "Did you talk to him yet?"

"No, I'm looking for another way in." The stalker replied.

Then he peered over the railing. "Go take a look in the offices of the casino." Pavel suggested. "I came across some locked doors there. Maybe you could find a way inside."

Cass took the conversation. "Did those doors say anything about maintenance?"

"I think so. I didn't have much time to take a look while I was dodging those holograms. When you get inside, go up the stairs and into the hallways past the counter. Then go up a set of stairs ahead. You'll find it once you get to the top."

"Thanks."

"No problem." A cry of inhuman roars echoed from the outside. "Get going, I'll be fine!"

No more words were exchanged as they departed from the lobby again, but with the hopes of finding God and his… other personality in one piece. After the slipped into the casino Cass led the way instead and it made sense, she was the one with the Duplet. They followed Pavel's directions with some degree while Artyom walked past the hologram behind the counter with a strange sense of fear.

Once they finished their arrival up the stairs, they were met with a door not too different from the one that was sealed tight. "This is it." Cass spoke. "You better tell this Dog fellow not to give us the worst way to go."

Artyom cocked his silenced weapon. "I hope the same as well."

She pulled out a key from her pockets and began to slip it into the keyhole at the center of the door. By the time she turned it sideways, the door's mechanisms whined to life with each lock slipping out of place. When the last one was finished, the main door itself slipped into the ground, bringing them access into the room. "The gas, I can smell it."

They stepped into the hallway, only to find the wall on the other side broken and shattered. Upon entering, the doors behind them closed shut, leaving them into the mercy of what lay inside. The young man glanced to his right and noticed a red valve unleashing gas into the room. "Close that one, I'll look for the other ones and hopefully, God." The woman understood him as she made his way towards it.

The stalker noticed the door the left and pushed it open, only to bring him to the Sierra Madre's kitchen. However, he saw movement upon the corner of his eyes. The tall figure of the nightkin's face was expressing emotions of a painful struggle. It was nothing he couldn't understand of such a creature. Then God's eyes saw him. "You're here!" He ran towards him, but his hands were raised. "Don't come any closer, you'll get yourself killed. Leave while you still can."

Artyom expressed his reason for being here. "I can't. That… other person is planning on burning this place to the ground. It must not happen."

He nodded his head. "Look, the beast is getting-" He growled in pain. "Dog is getting stubborn." God stated. "He's breaking through, but he'll be calling out for someone called the Master. Tell him you are and make him pull down the chain on his neck."

"What will that do?" He asked, truly curious about its purpose.

"It will end both of us."

The young man widened his eyes. "Are you insane?"

"Don't be a fool." The nightkin replied. "As much as I want to see that old man suffer, the beast's hunger must be kept away. Dog must not be allowed to burn this place down." Then a smile was all he could express. "It would have been a wonderful moment to see you bring down this Elijah down from his tower, especially its end, but not for me. It appears it was never meant to be."

"God, don't talk like that. I convinced you to leave your cell, perhaps I could convince Dog to listen to me?"

He shook his head. "Dog never has a liking to anybody except the Master." God winced once more. "You locked him away from his cage and he will eat you, especially since you don't have a collar on your neck." His hand pressed against his forehead. "He's… coming… out…"

Artyom watched the horrible transformation when God's expression changed from one of control to another of hunger. When his hand was removed from the forehead, an evil grin was all that was needed to tell who it was. "God, is that you?"

"Not God, I am Dog." He said. "Who are you? Are you food?"

So this was what God meant by containing the beast. His other person was very different. Yet, he recalled the advise of the former to his own survival. "No, I am not your food. I am your master."

Dog's eyes widened like plates. "Master? Master is that you? You sound funny."

The stalker nodded his head. "Yes, it's me. Do you see the chain around your neck, I want you to pull it."

"Dog will pull it. Are you happy with me?"

He took no satisfaction when he spoke these words. After all, he was killing someone he knew. "Yes. I am."

"Okay, I will!" The beast said gleefully.

When his hand reached for the chain around his neck, Artyom felt a tinge of guilt in his heart. He had just condemned someone to kill himself. "If only you had a better alternative." He whispered to himself. In one full pull, Dog howled at his agonizing death as he succumbed to his killing blow. The super mutant dropped to his knees and slammed his head forward. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you, God."

In one simple moment, he heard the caravaneer's collar beeping. "Artyom, we need to leave!" He didn't want to leave the man's body like this, but there was little time to drag him out and settle for a grave. His eyes looked at his hands to see two words printed on a small card.

'Maintenance Pass'

"It's locked!" She cried out. "Help me open this!"

He pulled the pass out from his his hands and ran back to the entrance he came from. By the time the stalker arrived, a distressed Cass was using all of her might to unlock the door by force. Then he handed the card to her. "Let's see if this will do."

Beside the door, there was a small device planted into the wall with a small slot with arrows and words mentioning pass card. She quickly slipped it down and was surprised to see the doors immediately open at this moment. "Move!" The rate of the beeping continued to get louder as the doors slowly slid open. "Come on, come on!"

When it finally opened, they both rushed out before the door closed on them. He could see in her eyes the sense of relief as she leaned onto the wall across from the door. "Are you okay?"

"I nearly had my head blown off." The woman answered. "Give me a second, then we'll go check on Pavel."

While Cass took a break, Artyom looked back at the door and wondered the alternatives. Was there truly a way to save God from killing himself? Despite the chance, he accepted his death. Perhaps he could satisfy him by dealing with the man who had been causing many to die for this hellhole, Father Elijah.

* * *

Artyom and Cass stepped out of the casino part of the building, only to find more bodies of ghost people littered everywhere. The stalker began to call out for the communist, hoping he did survive his encounter with the former people of this place. "Pavel, are you alive?"

Upon their right, the ran down the stairs as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "Definitely. We better find the capitalist before more of them come. I don't like being in the company of these creepy assholes." He answered. "The theater should be this way, follow me." With the communist leading the way, he began to ask a question. "I see you took care of that big fellow? Is he alive?"

"No, he killed himself to keep Dog out." He answered. "He didn't want the other person to come out."

"Pity, I always liked his comments, even if they were about maiming us."

Cass was confused by his sentence. "You liked the idea of him ripping your arms off?"

"No, but it was better than the smug bastard we're going to meet. At the very least, he was honest about how he saw people." Pavel answered. "The other guy is filled with enough fucking arrogance to surpass the Fuhrer of the Fourth Reich."

Father Elijah's shadow fell before the trio. "Do not leave at this moment. Go to the terminal by the front door, retrieve the ambient music. All of you will need it if you want to get into the vault."

"I'll get it." Cass acknowledged as she made her way towards the terminal behind the counter. "Artyom, Pavel, watch the door."

When she was behind the counter, a ghost person appeared at the doorway. "Opa, step right up for a wonderful game of get the fuck back!" The communist soldier brought up his sub-machine gun and fired a quick burst, only to see its limbs torn off. "That never gets old."

Artyom glanced at his communist companion with curiosity. "You enjoy killing people like that?"

"No, not at all, but it never hurts to have a sense of humor. It keeps your spirit up and helps keep the Nazis annoyed all the time." He answered.

Cass stepped away from the counter with her double-barrelled shotgun in hand. When another ghost person stepped through, she fired a full blast into its torso before flying out of the building.

"Damn, you didn't even look. How did you manage that?"

"My dad taught me." She answered.

The party walked up the stairs as Pavel directed the group towards the two doors leading into another part of the Sierra Madre. "Welcome to the theatre. Reminds me so much of home."

"Really? I never thought you and Artyom would have a theater given that you both live in tunnels."

"After the bombs fell, the survivors of the Bolshoi essentially made their own little theater for all of the Metro to see. Perhaps not as grand as this place, but there was always friendly company to be around."

She chuckled at the thought. "Sounds like quite a place to be." Cass replied.

As they walked in the open, Artyom noticed an open book placed out on a stand. He was filled with curiosity as he made his way over. The pages were filled with musical notes, perhaps it was meant for the people who would have made the music at this place. Then he flipped to the next page, but was surprised by what had followed. A key had slipped out of place, but he was quick to catch it mid-air.

"Did you find something?" She asked.

He glanced over his shoulder. "I found a key." The stalker answered. "It was hiding in this book right here?"

Pavel immediately tightened his grip on his weapon. "Hello Dean, I'm surprised a capitalist like you survived that encounter."

The young man glanced over the stage, only to see a small balcony with a wooden railing occupied by none other than the ghoul. He was smoking a cigarrette between his lips. The man was filled with a smile as he took the blunt and unleashed his smoke. "Good evening, everyone. I am rather glad all of you have arrived on point on this great occasion."

Artyom slipped the key into his pocket as he was filled with relief about finding the man. "We were looking for you. How are things going on your end?"

"Good." He answered. "However, you shouldn't worry too much about me. All three of you are going to meet an untimely end once they arrive."

"What are you talking about?"

"Such a pity that both you and your lovely dame that Pavel never told you what happened before we entered the Sierra Madre." What did he mean by that? "Tell him my dear proletariat how you left me at the mercy of the Sierra Madre's neighbors."

The communist was quick in his outburst. "I was providing sniper support from a nearby building! Are you seriously holding that against me?!"

"They were a few feet away from killing me."

"Yes, but I was able to kill them." He countered. "It's not like I wasn't watching your back."

"Still, you didn't even consider turning on the security."

"I don't know how to use those terminals."

"Well, it's time that the tour of the Sierra Madre must come to an end." He said. "Out of all the places, I think this place is fitting to end my wonderful time with me, Dean Domino. Sadly, security will have to contend with you and I'll have Sinclair's vault all to myself."

"We are in this together! Don't you know that? That old bastard has us by the balls and you're going to throw everything away for this grudge against me?"

"I have outlived many generations and I don't need any of you. None of you will surpass me when I open that vault."

"When I get there, I will be the one to put a bullet in your skull." Pavel stated.

"Am I truly your enemy? I'm not the one putting bomb collars on people's necks. Now I believe I can sit back and watch my little show and see where this might all end. Besides, it's not like you know that the backstage is the safest place to be."

Artyom was not impressed when he said those words. "Thank you for telling us all we have to know."

Surprised by his comment, Dean folded his arms. "None of you have the key to get in."

He patted his pocket.

"It's not like any of you could shut off security or unlock the doors, even if you tried."

"We could always blow the doors open. We have enough grenades to turn your backstage into a Stalingrad if you want." Pavel replied.

"Then let's see how it will play out. After all, I have all the cards in my hands."

The stalker looked around to find walking holograms appear in the areas surrounding the stage. "We need to move, now!" He ordered before the trio looked around for a way out of the trap. Upon the right side of the stage, there was a doorway leading into a hallway that might have lead to the backstage Dean spoke of. His hand pointed it out and directed the attention of the communist and the caravaneer. "Over there, move quickly!"

When they began to run, Artyom heard the zapping noises behind his back with streams of light flying past them. He was grateful that they were able to miss this much, but as they made their way inside he heard Cass's collar beeping. "Speakers, we need to shut them off!" The young man slipped the key out of his pocket and unlocked the door.

As they arrived in the hallway, the beeping stopped and there was a moment of relief for the group before Pavel closed the door. "Okay, Artyom and I will proceed to clear the way of any speakers. Let's go, comrade. We'll give you the all-clear when we're finished."

The two Russians proceeded down the hallway, only to find a small piece of the cloud present. "It looks like we'll have to make it quick jump through it." Artyom commented. "Are you ready?"

"Of course, I can't wait to get my fingers of that fucker." They both jumped forward past the cloud, caughing and wheezing at the irritating chemicals they had to endure. "I'll take care of the speakers and the radios, you find what we need!" The communist ordered as he continued throughout the hallway.

Upon the first door he stumbled upon, he pushed the door open while gunfire echoed throughout the hallway. As he made his first steps into the room, the stalker looked around, but noticed a key placed on a desk with a small label attached to it.

'Key to Vera Keyes' Another key into another place.

Beside the desk, he looked to find a radio scrambling to hold on to whatever life it once had, but Artyom gave it no mercy when he put two shots into it's internal wiring.

He walked out of the room and continued throughout the hallway. When he took a glance on his right, Pavel's sub-machine gun was unleashed as he peppered whatever radios or speakers that remained alive in that room. By the time he reached the other side of the room, he noticed another label referring to the person who once lived her.

'Vera Keyes' It said on her door with a golden star blazing out for a person like him. It was such a sad fate that she would have a sad end to her life.

Artyom brought the key forward and slipped it into the keyhole before turning it. Without any attempt of fighting back, the doorknob did what it was meant to do. His eyes looked ahead and found another radio inside. He brought his silenced sub-machine gun to bear and ended another threat to Cass's life.

Then he entered the room discovered another key awaiting him. The trail of keys he was finding did little to keep him from relief. He grabbed it, but then he saw a note placed beside a holotape.

'Play on projector, to end security' He reached out for it and slipped the holotape into his pocket before he made his way out the door.

Pavel stepped out of his room to meet with him. "Dean is on the other side of the door. Let's see how we can get inside." His hand tightened it's grip on the knob, but when he tried to turn it wouldn't budge. "Damn it, the guy was locked inside." Then his gaze fell upon a terminal attached the wall beside the door. "Artyom, could you check what it says?"

Without a second Artyom began to play around with the keys. The terminal should be easy to navigate as there were a select few options. However, one of the options was to shut down the ambient speakers. He pressed the enter button with the response claiming it had successfully turned them off. "Cass, you can come over now!" The stalker shouted to the top of his lungs. "I turned off the speakers!"

He heard the caravaneer's boots clicking throughout the hallway. "Thank god, I was getting bored without any company."

"Is there anything else that thing can do?" Pavel wondered.

"It just gives me a status report on the speakers, nothing else."

Then Dean's voice could be heard on the other side of the door. "Well, going through some trouble eh? Too bad the security will kill you before you ever get a chance to unlock these doors."

Artyom looked around to see what could help him get through as he noticed a door at the end of the hall. He walked over to the door and unlocked it with the key he found in the dead woman's room, but as he swung it open he was led back to where the group started off. Except there were holograms patrolling the stage and a small area behind the location of where the main audience would be.

That holotape's note mentioned something about shutting down security, but how?

His eyes traced the entire room until he saw a small balcony area above the floor. There was strange machinery placed there, but the stalker found a projector not on. Maybe it was like those tape recorders he once had at Exhibition and hopefully it would be like those.

"Looks like we will have to blow the doors open. Artyom, how many grenades to you have?" Pavel asked.

"I don't think we need to waste them." He replied. "Maybe this might shut down security if I try to make my way over there."

"Are you out of your mind? You'll be running on open ground, you could die out there."

"Sooner or later we'll have to. By the time we kill Dean, we'll be forced to run out before Cass blows her head off."

Then Cass spoke her mind about the issue. "I could probably sacrifice myself and Dean will be forced to run out into the open for the holograms to take potshots at him."

Both men stared at her wild suggestion, but Artyom would have none of it. He came to rescue her out of the old man's grip. "No, you are not going to do that."

"Are you sure? You're usually wasting your time trying to help me out of this situation."

"I came here to rescue you and I intend to get you out." He countered. "Once the holograms turn away from the path, I'll make a run for it. Maybe it will take some time before they react."

"You sure it will work?"

"Definitely. I've survived running away from a pack of nosalises, I think I can get away with this."

Cass stepped forward and grabbed him by the collar. "Then promise me you won't die on me."

"I won't." He finished before he stepped out of the doorway. There were two holograms present. One was on the stage with the latter on the far end of the room patrolling a path before a staircase. It never walked up the staircase, so that would mean he would be safe if he ran up those stairs.

Artyom slipped his silenced sub-machine gun over his shoulder and readied himself for the rush. The timing was necessary and he would see it through that he would make it on the other side of the theater.

When both holograms turned around, he ran for his life. His boots stomped against the ground, giving him a quick rush past the first hologram on the stage. The second one was the one he had to be careful about. As it turned it's attention towards him, the color turned blue with its menacing finger pointing towards him, but he ignored the warning and reached the base of the stairs. While he pressed foward, he looked over his shoulder to find the hologram had not followed after him.

He found another flight of stairs that raised him up on the level as he reached a door that awaited him. By the time he reached the door, he scrambled for his keys and tried them all to turn the doorknob. One of the three he found in the theater worked before he slipped through the crack at the first opportunity.

The projector was present before him with simple controls that were just too similar to the tape recorders he had. As he came over to the table that supported the projector, he pulled out the holotape and slipped it into place. Once it joined the machine, Artyom pressed the play button and looked at the theater itself.

The holograms that once patrolled the entire room had disappeared. Instead, holograms of people walked over to the front of the stage. Yet, they were waiting for one hologram standing on the stage make gestures at the microphone, imitating the behavior of a natural born human. Alas, there were no words that slipped out only empty promises of a future that could have been.

When it was all over, the holograms disappeared, but the security never returned.

He immediately made his way over to his two companions, both were waiting by the backstage door. Pavel had his weapon ready while Cass pointed her Duplet at the door. By the time he returned, Cass expressed a warm smile and pointed a finger at him. "Hopefully, there will never be a next time if something like this happens."

The door opened with a Dean Domino smoking what could perhaps be his last cigar of his life. "It appears it has come to this. The fans are out to wring the actor for his… performance." His eyes focused on Artyom. "At the very least, I got to see what could have been." Then he dropped his blunt and crushed it under the weight of his shoes. "I could take all three of you even if I didn't have eight lives and a perfect soundtrack to back me up."

The trio raised their weapons, but the stalker was reluctant about killing him. It was not the way of the Metro. It was true that the Metro had its fair share of grudges, but most of them could be settled… civily. This seemed wrong as much as killing the man would end the problem so easily. "Before this all goes down, I have to ask, was this all because Pavel didn't apologize for leaving you like bait?"

Despite the ghoul's eyes hidden away by his sunglasses, he raised his eyebrows. "Why do you ask? It was none of your concern given that you were never there in the first place."

"I'm rather curious. After all, would a simple apology… put all of this under the bridge?"

That earned a remark from the communist. "This guy tried to kill us with security and thought he could get away with it. You're going to easily forgive him for attempting to kill Cass in the meantime?"

"No, but I do have to wonder."

The ghoul spat at the ground. "Actually, an apology would be fine. After all, I only came here for the vault, but ever since the old man pulling the strings also has his necktie around my throat it's difficult to maneuver in this estate. Perhaps we can give each other a good old deal? You let me live and I could provide some additional secrets for your rescue."

"You would do that? Why?" Artom wondered.

"If I kill your lovely redhead, I'll have two angry Russians out to kill me and given what I've seen about your performance against the holograms, I'm not inclined to have a bullet through my back on the way out."

"So what secret would you tell us?"

Dean raised his hand and waved his finger. "Ah ah ah!" He warned. "An apology first, secrets after. I also want your word that I won't get shot once I leave."

Artyom glanced over to Pavel. "You want me to apologize to this asshole?" The communist asked. "Kid, you must be out of your mind today. Did the cloud do something to you?"

"No." The young man replied. "But he might give us an advantage that Elijah won't have. We won't have to worry about him after, correct?"

"I'm sorry, Dean."

"What are you apologizing about?" The ghoul asked. "More details."

"I am sorry I left you on the roof at the mercy of the ghost people."

He expressed a large smile as he slipped his hands into his pockets. "Apology accepted, my communist friend. See? Not all capitalists are terrible people." He said. "Now about that secret, it has to do with the way to the vault. Would you like to know more?"

"Yes. Maybe that's how we'll end this fiasco once and for all, you and the rest of us." The stalker answered. "Do tell."

"Smart man. You could have done a wonderful job at being a business man, but I digress." Dean began. "In the executive suites, there is a private elevator in Vera's room. It is of no coincidence that they're together. Vera, she was quite a partner to have, but Sinclair built this entire place for her. Everything about this building. The lock to the vault - her voice."

"But she's dead." Artyom commented. "How can we use a voice of a dead person to activate it?"

"It's simple, a recording." He answered. "However, I have found another alternative to dealing with that part of security. That woman with the scars? The clinic did its work on her and let the medical instruments change her tune. If she does heal, it won't be her voice that comes out."

He froze in horror. The woman he rescued from the pod, the one he helped, was put in there by this man. His hands clutched onto his sub-machine gun, but he had to restrain himself from killing him on the spot. Defeating Elijah was a top priority; however, it didn't allieviate the rage built within him. "You were the one who put her in the pod."

Dean nodded his head. "Yes, but now you have the secret. If that girl is alive and you piece together the song, the Sierra Madre should open its legs for you and you're in business."

"So that's it. Christine speaks the words and the vault opens?"

"The elevator that is. It's not like I know what is behind those elevator doors. Now will I get to leave?"

"A stalker never breaks his promise." He answered. "Let's leave this place for the ghosts to lurk."

"Those are fitting words I say."

"However, we should clear the way. More ghost people might have got in while we were away."

Elijah's shadows through the speakers garnered their attention. "You almost have the music archives fixed. Once you get the last one, connect it all by the main lobby terminal. Then we'll find what treasures or traps awaits us."

* * *

Angelique poured water into a glass she cleaned earlier. "Here, are you thirsty?"

Christine sat across from her as reached out for the glass of water. "Thank you. It's been a long time since I had something decent." Then her eyes glanced over to the Brotherhood Scribe sitting beside the courier. "Hello Veronica."

The hooded girl raised her head. "What happened to your voice? You sound different."

"I don't know. All I can remember is that I was put into the clinic and I was knocked out for awhile." She answered. "It wasn't until that stranger found me - what was his name again?"

"Artyom." Veronica stated. "He went missing when one of the ghost people captured him."

"They captured him?" Christine asked as she took a sip of her glass.

"Yeah, we thought he was dead until he came back with you."

"Then he's a lucky guy." The woman reached towards a gas mask tied to her side and glanced at it. "He seems like a nice guy. What is he doing?"

Angelique pulled out a bottle of bourbon from her knapsack. "He's currently dealing with the others before we meet up. I don't know when he'll arrive, but he shouldn't have too much to deal with."

Then Veronica began asking questions. "Christine, what are you doing here? What are you after?"

The scarred woman placed her glass on the table between them. "I have orders from the Circle of Steel. To go after Father Elijah. The Brotherhood sees him as a threat to be eliminated."

"I don't blame them." She replied.

"You're not upset?"

The scribe shook her head. "The man I left at HELIOS One was different back then. Now? He's… changed."

"For the worse." Christine added. "My orders are to kill him and make sure he never does harm to the wastes again."

"Will you be able to join me after we finish this? After this all ends?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't think so. You and I both know the Brotherhood looks down on our… intimate relationship. After all of what I've been through, I don't think I can handle it anymore."

"Bullshit." Angelique commented.

"What?"

"You don't have to worry about what they say about you two." The courier answered. "What does the Brotherhood done for any of you?"

"Ma'am, it is what the Codex says."

"Yeah, but that Codex is just somewhat useful as a condem in a Legion camp. You two like each other, they don't understand any of that!"

"Turning our backs on the Codex? Veronica and I can agree to never do something like that." Christine stated. "As much as the rest of the Brotherhood disagrees with our relationship we should not betray our ideals."

She scoffed at the last sentence. "Last time I recalled, the ideals of the Brotherhood didn't exactly save them against the NCR." Angelique pointed out.

The two members of the Brotherhood of Steel stared at them.

"Too early?"

Then a loud commotion outside Vera's room made its way to the front. "Christine?" They heard a man call out. "Are you in there?"

The assassin was quick to answer. "Yes, I'm right here." She answered.

When the doors slowly opened, the trio found the three other members of their party arrive. "So how did things go?" Angelique asked. "Hopefully it went well?"

Pavel slung his weapon over his shoulder. "That is the most optimistic view of the entire situation."

"Okay then, what happened?"

"Dean Domino almost killed us." Then he glanced over to the stalker.

Artyom spoke. "God had to committ suicide to stop Dog from coming out." He answered. "However, Dean was able to come with tolerable success."

"How so?" The courier asked.

Then he pointed his finger at Christine. "She will help us?"

The Brotherhood assassin rose from her seat and crossed her arms. "How will that work?"

"It turns out Dean put you in that clinic to change your voice to resemble that of Vera Keyes." He answered. "From your sentence alone, it looks like Dean's gamble… worked."

"Wait? That ghoul was the one who put me in the auto-doc? Bastard!"

Cass crossed her arms. "That also means you have the key to open the vault." She answered. "Plus it saves us from another trip into a lobby full of ghost people since we already got the last piece from the terminal thanks to Angelique."

The woman shook her head. "You're telling me that asshole put me through all of that pain just to change my voice?"

Artyom nodded his head. "Yes. I don't like it either, but it does answer who put you in there in the first place. However, there should be a private elevator for both of us to enter."

Veronica was quick to comfort her companion as she hugged her close. "Then that means Father Elijah is going to follow after us. We now have a way to get inside the vault."

"Artyom come with me, we should go down there together." Angelique stated. "It might entice him to come after since we got a way inside before him."

"I guess we'll have to hold him off." Christine suggested.

"No, let him get through."

"What?! I can't let him slip through my fingers - not again! He must pay for his crimes."

"I have a better idea." The courier began. "If Artyom and I don't stop him there, all of you can kill him before he escapes. This is our fallback plan." Then she looked at the others. "I understand you want to kill him badly, but if we do this then he will have nowhere else to run back to."

Pavel began to speak his mind. "Artyom, are you sure you want to go through this plan? You don't have to?"

The stalker nodded his head. "I'm okay with it." He answered. "I want to confront the old man myself. It's for God. I'm sure he would appreciate it."

"Ladna, good luck and don't die down there. Both of you."

Then the courier glanced over to Christine. "We'll need your help."

Soon the trio departed from the main group as they made their way towards the private elevator. Beside the elevator was a speaker waiting for the key words.

"Artyom, do you have the words?"

The stalker pulled out the holotapes from his pockets and handed it over to her. "Here."

Then Angelique played with the buttons on her Pip-Boy. The assassing stood over the screen before she nodded her head. "Got it?"

"Yes." She answered. Then she walked over to the speaker as the small computer on the courier's arm played music. "Begin again, but know when to let go." The elevator sparked to life with it's whines of machinery. "If you do confront Elijah, I'll see what I can do on my end. There should be a terminal that could help."

As she walked away, the courier looked over her shoulder to find a nervous stalker waiting. "Into the unknown we go."

When the elevator doors opened, the courier and the stalker stepped forward to their final destination.

* * *

After avoiding shutting down the holograms or destroying the speakers they could destroy, Artyom and Angelique found themselves stood before the front of the vault in its full glory. Untouched for ages and was waiting to be plundered.

The courier walked foward to a terminal and began to tap the keys faster than Artyom would if he tried. "This terminal should open those doors." Moments later, the great door swung open. "There we go."

To their surprise, they heard laser fire from behind. As they turned around, there were several security turrets firing their lasers from their positions. "Get inside!" Artyom ordered while he drew his makeshift railgun out. As they made their way inside, the door closed on their way inside.

Now they were protected and perhaps trapped inside if one looked at it from another perspective. "Let me take handle the terminals, it might unlock the door or turn off those laser turrets." As she busied herself with the technical information that was beyond him, he was given an opportunity to explore this simple room to himself.

The stalker looked around, met with beakers and additional chemical mixers on his left. However, he glanced over to his right to be met with what was considered treasure to those who are now deceased. Past the paper bills, three stacks of gold bars were present before him with additional Sierra Madre coins litered across the table. Then his eyes noticed the locker beside him.

Curious, Artyom opened the locker and was met by a treasure trove of weapons. They mostly consisted of those poor versions of the revolver or those automatic rifles. Yet, there was more past the cases of bullets. There were suits of Sierra Madre armor that were present and were far more cleaner than the others. Of course, he wouldn't want all of it for himself, but maybe he could give them to the others. Was this truly the treasure that the old man wanted?

He turned his full attention towards the room once more, only to find Angelique shifting to another terminal beside the door. "I'm going to turn of the security. Check what's on the terminal."

Without a word, the young Russian walked over to the terminal placed on the computer in the center of the room. As he took his seat, he began to use the keys to select the highlighted content and explore. However, the first option didn't appear to work for him. Hopefully the other option was still useful. When he pressed the button, he read it's content in great detail.

This was a message from a pre-war survivor - the one who built this place and the man Dean wanted to insult, Sinclair. Reading through the words, it was message to Vera Keyes, telling her how she was caught in this mess and how he would send help for her while she waited. It was not malicious, but it did give a great warning. There would be another message awaiting for Dean Domino, only that this would make this vault become his tomb. As long as she didn't read those accounts, she would be… safe. However, Artyom knew the truth that she was dead.

He backed out of the entire message meant for Vera, but when he did he saw Sinclair's account appear. "Don't read that one."

Then Angelique walked her way over to his seat, looking over his shoulder. "Why won't you open that one?"

"That one is a trap meant for Dean Domino." He answered. "I don't want to risk it."

"Very well, I'll get busy to securing our loot."

Father Elijah's voice caught her in the act. "You will do no such thing."

Artyom powered down the terminal as the wall past the terminal unleashed a screen of Father Elijah, observing them. This time, they were in the vault and he was watching them.

"If both of you intend to take what is mind then you will suffer the consequences." He added. "The Sierra Madre is mine and mine alone. None of you will take it from me."

The stalker crossed his arms in his chair. "You are going to pay for what you did."

"Pay for what? Killing people? I wasn't the one who came into the Sierra Madre with the intention of being greedy." Elijah stated. "In fact, you were the ones who were putting the collars upon yourselves for trying to come here for wealth."

"Yet, you were the one who organized it in the first place." Artyom countered.

"Consider yourself lucky I didn't blow off the collars of your companions for that offense. I have it right here on my arm?" What did he mean by that?

"Why are you doing this? What purpose would you gain from sending all of these people to open this vault?"

"To wipe the slate clean." The former father of the Brotherhood answered. "The cloud allows me to cleanse the Mojave of the pre-war monuments and technology from the ants who littered their hands on them, especially the NCR. Yet, this place brings more than just weapons to attack them. The holograms allow me to destroy my enemies and make me invincible as I toss one of those emmitters on any battlefield and watch them slaughter those who defeated me."

"What cause do you have against the NCR? What have they done to you?"

"They are children who don't understand the potential of technology, who treat them like mere toys. I intend to do the opposite, cleaning the Mojave clean will end their reign over those monuments. However, the Sierra Madre also offers me additional technology to make a nation!"

"A nation? How can a man like you know anything about making a nation?!" He demanded. "What makes you better than a scavenger with aspirations?"

"Easy - the collars provide compliance, the holograms enforce anyone who disagree, and the vending machines provide everything else. The technology of this casino allows me to shape the wasteland how I see it." The old man replied.

"You're a madman. You're no better than a Nazi."

He scoffed at his accusation. "A madman? No, I am a visionary. You are foolish to come here in hopes of rescuing your friends. Perhaps if you had the foresight such as myself, I would be far more accepting of you. Now that you discovered the vault alongside your companions, this will be a fitting punishment for looking for the Sierra Madre."

"Then why don't you come down here. Otherwise, I'll make sure you never have an opportunity to see it." Artyom replied.

The courier made her outburst. "Are you insane?"

"Listen to your friend." The old man suggested. "She has more sense than you do. I can pop their heads with a single push of a button."

"Do that and I'll deny you access to the vault, permanently." The stalker countered. "I'll die, but you'll never get here."

"No, I will not allow this."

"Then come down and meet us face-to-face. Let's see if you are truly worthy of the treasure."

Elijah's voice displayed his irritation. "I have had enough of this nonsense. Very well then, I will come down. If you play any tricks, you will have your punishment." His image disappeared before Artyom rose up from his seat.

Now she was angry. "What the hell is wrong with you? Do you want us to die?"

He picked up the gold bars off the table and slipped them into his knapsack. "Angelique, it's a crazy idea, but I want you to take the treasure from this place and sneak into the elevator."

"Do you have a plan for this? I can't carry all of this by myself."

"I'll help you when you get into the elevator."

"Any reason why you're doing this?" She asked.

"Simple, I'm going to fight him head on. Once I stop him, I'll take his Pip-Boy from him and remove the detonator from Elijah." Artyom answered.

"How are you going to get back?"

"The long route. Since I don't have a collar on my neck, I can get away with it."

She expressed her worry when he handed her his back. "What if you don't make it?"

The thought was crazy and he wanted to see his home again, but somebody had to stop men like Elijah from getting too far. Yet, the rest of the group needed to escape before the ghost people overrun the casino by numbers alone. "Then God bless my soul."

Then the vault door opened. As they stepped out of the vault, he noticed the hallway area where Elijah would likely walk out from. Once the security gets down, Angelique could get the two bags of weapon parts, ammo, and the rest of the treasure through without being slowed down. An electrode on his right seemed to be the perfect spot for her to hide behind.

"We'll hide behind that… thing. You run for the door, I'll cover you."

"Good luck, Artyom. You'll need it more than me."

The duo made their way over to the only obstacle that could obstruct the old man's line of sight. They huddled together while he looked over and saw the doors slip open. "He's here." The young man reported.

They heard the old man's footsteps meet against the old metal floors before the energy barrier leading into the vault had disappeared from all the entrances. "That man will regret defying me like that."

Without a single word, Artyom tapped Angelique's shoulder and pointed forward. He could sense her shifting forward while sticking close to the obstruction. However, the old man stepped out of the hallway and was walking past them while they circumvented around his view.

When he was out of range, the courier rose up from the floor and slowly crept towards the hallway that led back into the elevator. Meanwhile, the stalker went the opposite way and followed behind Elijah's back. He had to make sure the old man never got an opportunity to touch that terminal beside the vault door.

It was a tempting thought, to kill him without even trying, but the Pip-Boy on his arm was the main concern. He could risk the lives of Angelique, Christine, and Cass for his own sake. This was the only way to make sure. As he unsheathed his trench knife, Elijah stopped in place as he turned his head over to the path the courier had escaped through. "I knew they would try something!"

Artyom's opportunity came when he grabbed the old man's arm away from his other hand and surprised him with his strength. Then he lunged his knife forward with the brass knuckles meeting his nose. He gasped in pain as he landed on the metal floor. However, Artyom noticed he wasn't knocked out enough. His weight pressed against the arm which had the Pip-Boy before bringing another punch into the old man.

When Elijah was knocked unconscious, the stalker quickly detached the small device off of his armor and covered his own. Then he noticed a weapon slung over the old man's back. It was unlike anything he had seen before and it might be the only time he would ever find something like that before. He slipped the weapon out of his reach before he ran towards the the courier standing in the doorway. "Let's go!" The Russian screamed to the top of his lungs.

It was a fitting end for that man. He belittle others who came to this place with their intention for obtaining wealth, but was also a hypocrite in a sense. Father Elijah was just as greedy as those before him. After all, he was just human and it made him no different that the others who came with the lust for the Sierra Madre.

As they made their way to the elevator, Artyom took a look at his Pip-Boy. He searched throughout the the computer attached to his arm, only to find the commands on the active bomb collars. His eyes noticed the option to detonate or disarm the bomb collars around their necks. He was thankful as he chose the disarm option and saw a message tell him it was successful.

Then he heard a click beside him, only to find the courier's bomb collar detach from her throat and landed on the elevator floor. Angelique immediately reached for her throat, feeling the sense of salvation. Meanwhile, he noticed the red mark around her neck. She had to endure that for hours and hopefully nobody will ever will at the city of the damned.

* * *

Author's Note: Holy shit, this is the longest chapter I have ever made. It was very exhausting and I don't think we'll ever reach that for a very long time. I might reach halfway of the words that make up this chapter, but that's probably it. I hoped you all enjoyed this chapter and the end to the Dead Money arc.

Despite feeling good about posting it, I would also appreciate whatever criticism you guys have since the length of the chapter also brings the increased likelihood of mistakes.


	27. Chapter 27: Slight Detour

It was another one of those dream-like states he found himself in again. Who was it? Hunter? The Dark Ones? How many times was he going to deal with this?

A door was presented for him, it wasn't like anything he had seen in the tunnels. Was it for him? When Artyom walked forward to push it open, he was met with a surprising sight, there was room filled with a bar. It was almost empty, but there was a single person manning the place behind the counter.

Where was he?

Then he received the man's attention while he was wiping empty glasses with a simple cloth. "Hello there, stranger. I've been waiting for you."

He was confused by what he meant. "For me, but I don't know you." As he made his way to meet the man across the counter. "How do you know me?"

The bald man with the wrinkly face chuckled at his question. "You don't know me, but you do know my girl, Rose. After all, you did rescue her from the mad dog in that city of vermin."

The Russian froze on the spot after he realized what this man meant by those words. No, it couldn't be. How was it possible? "You're Cass's father?"

"Is that what she tells people to call her?" He said, not impressed by his own daughter. "One of these days, I'm going to have to tell you to tell her to not treat boys like dolls."

"Respectfully, I don't want to be on her bad side." Artyom replied.

"Don't worry. I'm just playing with you." Then he gave out his hand. "My name is John Cassidy, I hope you remember that."

"I won't, sir."

"Good, because I do have one thing to say about you. Thank you for saving my girl."

The stalker nodded his head with a warm smile. "You're welcome, sir."

Yet, the old man pointed his finger at him. "Given that I'm on limited time, if you try anything funny with my-"

"No, nope, nyet, nein, I don't want an early grave."

The last thing Artyom saw was a laughing John Cassidy before the dream-like moment faded from his mind. "You're smart, boy. I'll give you that."

* * *

Days had passed as the group sat around a small campfire. It was celebration to living and surviving the dreadful place known as the Sierra Madre. Cass sipped her bottle of whiskey quietly to herself while Angelique told the story of how Artyom freed them from Father Elijah. "...and so he decided to give the old man two punches with his knife of his and knocked the windbag out of commission." She finished while take a swig at a bottle of wine.

The caravaneer's eyes trailed over to the two members of the Brotherhood of Steel. Of course, she never cared much for their organization, but she knew that Veronica and Christine's relationship was broken up by the man who put the collar on her. At best, it was better to ignore them.

Then she looked for Artyom - the man who ended this brahmin nonsense once and for all. He was found squatting on a ridge overlooking the surrounding area and the main group from his position. Perhaps he didn't want to leave it to chance for somebody to surprise a drunk group of survivors like that one encounter with the Legion. She couldn't blame him if that was his reason.

Pavel made a comment on the young man's pose. "He almost looks like a Polis Ranger."

"A what?" Angelique wondered. "Who are those guys?"

"Polis Rangers." He answered. "Artyom almost looks like one."

"What the hell is a Polis Ranger?"

"Back in the Moscow Metro, there is an organization known as the Polis Council, they are the ones who make sure the Metro is gets better for everyone, despite political beliefs. The Polis Rangers are the peacekeepers and enforcers of their policies."

Enforcers? "They sound a bit similar to the Desert Rangers?" Cass pondered.

"Eh? I don't know who those guys are. What do they do?"

"Similar thing, they used to be the enforcers of the Mojave before the NCR brought them into the fold."

The bald communist nodded his head. "Ah, I understand. Back in the Metro these guys are no pushovers, Nazis, Hansa, not even my superiors would touch them. They are an off-limits and anybody who gets into conflict with the Rangers gets an immediate reprimand even though they are few in numbers."

Veronica joined in on the conversation. "Why is that? How come nobody decided to attack them?"

"You see, Artyom and I are pre-war survivors. Polis is the same, but they consist of former special forces, army, and government officials who escaped the bombs when everything went to hell. They're neutral, but nobody touches them with good reason."

"They sound like the Enclave." Cass commented.

"Who?"

"Back in the NCR's beginning days, there was group of people known as the Enclave. They were the descendants of the United States Government, only they didn't like the rest of us and tried to kill everyone who wasn't them." The caravaneer explained. "These Polis guys sound too much like them."

Pavel dismissed her comparison with his hand. "They are nothing like that. They're neutral because they have the toughest soldiers in the tunnels. Hansa outnumbers them in money, the Nazis have a knack for terrifying people into submission, and my people outnumber them alone, but Polis has the best soldiers and stalkers in the Metro."

"Do they do anything aside from having the best soldiers?"

"Of course!" The communist answered. "Most stalkers go up on the surface to find whatever is valuable in their eyes, Polis Rangers have different priorities. They go up on the surface to find artifacts, whatever pre-war knowledge they can find on the surface and bring it down into their archives."

Then Veronica crossed her legs and leaned forward by the fire. "They almost sound like the Brotherhood, only they don't go after technology."

"Well, they also act as a third party for ceasefire negotiations and prisoner exchanges when the Red Line and the Reich start warring every now and then. They're also the protectors of the Metro, if there is a station under attack by a pack of mutants they send an entire squad to clear them out."

Christine spoke her mind about the situation. "I find it hard to believe you and Artyom survived the bombs. It has been two-hundred years since the bomb fell. Either both of you are delusional or on chems."

Pavel waved his finger at her. "The truth is, we are. Something brought us to this place, I don't like the fact that I'm in the middle of nowhere and hanging like a bat."

"If you really are then do you have any information that can prove your point."

"Five-point-four-five caliber rounds."

The Brotherhood assassin raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"The bullets. We use a different caliber compared to American weapons. You guys use five-point-five-six bullets, which is a standard for the pre-war infantrymen of the United States." The Russian explained. "None of them would be using Russian bullets in their arms."

"You seem to know your guns. Why is that?"

He crossed his arms. "I'm a Major of the Red Line. I have to know my caliber at a bullet exchange pebbler."

"Still, it doesn't appear to be enough to prove you're a pre-war survivor. Anybody can come across that caliber and claim they're a pre-war survivor."

Angelique accidentally fired off her weapon, surprising everyone around the campfire. "Whoops, I took the safety off the Gauss rifle."

Christine shook her head. "This is the reason why the Brotherhood of Steel exist, to keep stupid people from shooting themselves with technology. Makes me wonder about that courier back at the Big Empty."

That alone caught her attention. "Courier? Who was it?"

"He went by the name of Ulysses." She answered. "Are you a courier as well?"

"Yeah, I might know the person."

"He had dreadlocks and said something about the Brotherhood filled with madness if we kept going our direction. I wouldn't complain since he saved my life, but he can be a bit too philosophical at times."

She shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I wouldn't know him, but is this Big Empty that you're talking about."

"Don't let the name fool you, it's a place filled with technology, but I was… lucky to escape with my life."

"How lucky?" Pavel asked.

"Most people I saw there were a gibbering mess. Someone or something had a knack for taking people's brains out of their skulls. Thankfully, I got mine and chased after Elijah to the Sierra Madre."

"So those scars came from that place?"

Christine nodded her head. "Yes." She said reluctantly.

"Does it hurt?"

"Why do you ask? It's none of your concern."

"I can cook up some mushroom tea, it should help alleviate the pain."

When the conversation died down, Cass returned her gaze upon the vigilant stalker watching over them from his position. Perhaps a bottle of whiskey would help him relax during his sentry duty. She rose up from the sand feeling the sand anointing her Sierra Madre armor with dirt and debris. As she arrived on the ridge, the caravaneer found her friend eating through his can of cram. "Evening, Artyom."

The man turned his head around, the face shield covering his face before he lifted the visor up. "Good evening, Cass. What brings you here?"

Another shot from the Gauss rifle was discharged as they both looked down to see Christine run up to the courier in anger. "Goddamn, it's not a toy!"

"Oh, I see. I shouldn't have given her the weapon if she's going to waste ammunition like that."

The woman laughed at his comment. "Well, now Christine is acting all noble Brotherhood of Steel on her." Then she took a seat beside him. "What do you plan to do once you get back to the Mojave?"

"Get my AK back from the bastard who took it." He replied.

"What about after you get it back? You got to have priorities for the future, right?"

Artyom leaned back and sat on the dirt. "I don't know after that? It's not like I got much of a future anyway."

"Don't say that? I'm sure you could find something to do."

"What about you?" He asked her. "I'm sure you might have something worthwhile heading off to once you're done traveling with me."

"I could go back west and into NCR territory, but it just doesn't seem right. Especially, what happened to my caravans."

That caught his attention as he turned his eyes on her. "What do you mean by that?"

"You see, I used to own a company, but it has become a net loss ever since someone decided to raid them all." Cass answered. "Not much left. I don't know whether its coincidence or providence that I was set up to fail."

She noticed his head shaking the thought. "It's too much of a coincidence."

"How so? What do you know about being in charge of some caravans?"

"Something I learned in Hansa when a stalker and I used to travel together." He answered.

Their conversation stopped when they heard Veronica's cries for help. "Guys, we got a Deathclaw!"

"Oh fuck!" Angelique screamed to the top of her lungs as she fired her weapon.

The duo turned around to see the campfire below, only to see a tall beast with sharp claws and horns cry out for them. The communist and the assassin reached for their weapons and began firing in the direction of the beast that stumbled upon them.

"That is big." That was the biggest understatement about one of the most dangerous creatures in the wasteland.

"Let's help them!" Cass shouted as she slipped her automatic rifle off her shoulder.

When they joined the group, the caravaneer and the communist unleashed their gunfire upon the beast. Meanwhile, Christine stole the gauss rifle off the courier and helped the stalker unleashed the firepower of their railguns. Then Angelique peppered it with her plasma gun with Veronica being chased by the abomination.

As she pulled down the trigger of her rifle, she felt the rate of fire eat through the magazine's ammo before it immediately became empty. "Shit, I'm out!" The ground shook, but its direction was coming towards her. The deathclaw had stopped running for Veronica, but it was now aimed at her with. It's claws were drawn, the teeth were ready for the kill.

Before she could load her weapon, Cass heard a war cry from one of the Russians on her right. "No!"

Artyom came to her rescue as he stood between her and the monster. However, it was annoyed by his weapon as it bright it's claws to bear. In a single swipe, the stalker was knocked back with his makeshift weapon shattered in two. This time, he was at the mercy of the deathclaw.

He rose from the ground and ran towards her while she finished the reload of her weapon. "It's charging, run!" The ground shook again while the monster chased after the two travelers running for their lives. At the same time, bullets and various other projectiles were flying after them.

Then the duo heard Pavel talk. "Watch it, you might them!"

Cass looked forward, only to see a strange pulse emanating from a particular spot in the desert. As much as she was curious about the strange phenomenon, it would have to wait until they were safe. However, she felt two arms wrap around her body. "Get down!" Artyom yelled out.

The deathclaw flew over them, but something happened. Instead of feeling the warm sandy place she knew, the caravaneer felt a cold breeze flowing over her.

When she looked around, all she could feel was shock and surprise. What happened to the gunfire from the others? Where was she? Then she smelled something burning behind her back, only to find the pulsing phenomenon except that it was set in a tunnel. On the left, she saw a fuel can with a burning fuse to it. She felt tight hands grab ahold of her armor, dragging her away from it before an explosion shook the very place she was in.

Moments later, the ceiling collapsed on the very spot she landed, which was now covered in dirt and concrete. "What the hell is going on?" Cass wondered as she got up from the ground. As she turned around, the woman found Artyom standing in some strange circular room, confronting the deathclaw with his weapon in hand. "Damn it, we're already dead." Past the abomination was a tunnel held together by wooden planks.

To her surprise, she heard a thunderous roar that occurred from above. She looked up, only to see a dozen holes in the walls as naked creatures crawled out of their burrows by this disturbance. "Nosalises." He said. "Be careful. It looks like we disturbed an entire nest full of them."

Dozens of them poured out, earning the hateful glare of the deathclaw. "What do we do?" She asked.

"It's a gamble, but it looks like they're going to attack one-another. We'll run pass them once it begins."

Cass looked around, finding some of these strange mutated creatures switch between them and the deathclaw. Suddenly, one of them had the courage to attack it despite its sheer size. At first, the large monster killed it with claws embedded into the victim's body. Whether it was out of vengeance or instinct, these nosalises charged after the deathclaw. While small, they were numerous.

Artyom snatched her hand as he forth. "Run for it!" He ordered. She followed as the pack began to descend upon the intruder.

Once they got to the other side, she looked back to see their bodies begin to pile upon one-another with the deathclaw's strength weakening against the numbers alone. Soon she was consumed by the darkness of the tunnel and only felt Artyom's grip on her. However, it was only for a moment when a light appeared from his flashlight as he navigated through the tunnel.

Yet, they were able to reach the other side, but were met with train tracks. The Mojave never had underground railroads. "To the left!" She heard him speak.

Upon turning to their left, the duo saw the a path leading towards an opening with a great door awaiting them. As they continued to run, the caravaneer looked back and saw those strange creatures storm slip out of the tunnel with their beady eyes searching for them.

When they finally reached the inside, Artyom pointed over to the mutants. "Cover me, I'm closing the gates." He said as he reached for the door controls on the left and slammed the lever down. The door responded to it's duty as the door slid down into place before they could make it inside.

After it was closed shut, the woman demanded to know where she was located. "Where are we?" She asked.

He was breathing hard; however, his response did not comfort her. "Cass, I think I know the answer to that." He was reluctant to speak, but it also appeared that he was choosing his words carefully with his lips struggling to talk. "Welcome to the Metro."

* * *

Author's Note: I still had a bit of writing juice left so I thought I could spend the rest of it on this little chapter. Well, I hope you all enjoyed it. Now off to handle finals.


	28. Chapter 28: A Shade of Red

The duo had taken refuge into a small service room ever since their arrival in the Metro and rested enough hours to what amounted to half a day. Yet, Artyom found himself in a dilemma as he played a card game with Cass. Where should he go? Of course, he could make his way to his home station - Exhibition, but how? They were brought to the Metro and with little knowledge of the tunnels beyond Exhibition to the Market, he had little chance of a successful travel without running into packs of nosalises.

The caravaneer placed all of her cards down. "I think you just won. You're awfully lucky for someone who has never played Caravan before."

He returned his thoughts back to the matter that was presently catching his attention. "Allow me to be honest, I do not have the slightest clue how this game works."

"Come on, somehow you had some idea how to play this game."

Artyom shook his head. "I don't."

When they began to reorganize the cards back into a pack, she asked a question. "So, do you know where should go next? After all this is the Metro. You should know where we are."

"The problem is, I don't."

She paused after the last card was put together. "You're kidding, right?"

"I'm not. I only know some of the places around my home, this place doesn't seem to be recognizable. You and I both know how these tunnels go endlessly and the last thing we need is to walk into an empty station filled with mutants."

"It shouldn't be that bad, New Vegas is big, but it's rather easy to get around once you know around your way. It should be the same for the Metro."

The stalker was about to speak, but he raised his finger and placed it before his lips. There was a commotion outside the service room, past Cass's seat. "Someone is coming." He whispered.

"Do you think they can help us with directions?" She asked quietly.

He shook his head. "They might be bandits, we don't know." Then he glanced over to lamp that was used for their game before he blew the candle out. "Get in the closet, I'll be in the bathroom."

They both rose from their chairs and began to make their way to their designated positions. He flicked off the room's lights before he drew his VSV out and took refuge in the bathroom. Meanwhile, he lowered his night vision goggles as he heard the sound of engines outside.

He could hear the footsteps coming towards the door while several strangers were in their conversation. "Damn, I could go for some pork right now." One of them began. "So damn tired of those mushrooms." He added.

Another man replied. "Don't worry. Those refugees from Cursed might have something for us."

"Yeah, but you know the boss. No bullets, no pass."

"Why not shoot the idiots and search their shit?" He asked. "It's also the boss's policy."

"I don't know, it just doesn't feel right." The first man replied. "Most of them have families, you know."

"So what? I would care less if they had kids. One less whining and begging to worry about." The door swung open as they made their way into the small room with the table in the center. "Say, why are we searching this place? It doesn't seem like much."

"Every now and then the boss wants to see if some stalker took refuge here if they don't have enough filters to make to Venice. They usually come through here from Polyanka."

"Polyanka?" The other man wondered. "I hear they avoid that place like the plague."

"They do, but if they're desperate for air or they don't have enough filters they come through there."

As the two men entered the room, Artyom noted their makeshift armor consisting of spikes and panels strapped to their clothes. Then he heard a third speaker with a loud and commanding voice get their attention. "Is anybody in here?" When he arrived, he was far more armored than the others, wearing a helmet with a face shield that only allowed his eyes to see through.

The young man raised his goggles and turned them off while one of the men made their way to the light switch.

"Turn on the lights and check everywhere. One of those stalkers might be hiding and have some good shit on him."

When the bandit turned on the light switch, Artyom raised his suppressed sub-machine gun and fired a single bullet into his head. As his blood was whipped across the floor, the other two men were quick to notice him.

"Fuck, on our right!"

He peeked out from around the corner of the bathroom doorway, only to see a four-barrelled shotgun in the arms of the armored bandit. Then he slipped back to safety as he heard a loud blast shake the wall while he slipped his entire body to the ground. The young man felt the debris of the wall litter itself on him as the other man began firing his semi-auto weapon at him. Artyom blind fired from his position, but his weapon ran out immediately after.

"He's reloading, press on that asshole!"

The bandit's footsteps came closer, but then he heard the closet open.

"Not today!" Cass yelled out before she swept the entire room with the Duplet.

After he reloaded, the stalker peeked out from his cover and saw armored bandit loading his weapon. "Damn it!" He swore to himself while he made his way outside of the service room.

The stalker rushed out of the closet and fired his bullets while he watched the bullets bounce off the plated armor. Yet, their impact made it difficult for him to gain balance on his two feet. Once he was empty, he pulled out his revolver and fired away. Unlike the bullets used in his sub-machine gun, these bullets had an easier time chipping away at his enemy's armor.

Then Cass came to his aid after she loaded her shotgun. The next two shotgun blasts ended his life as he slumped to the ground with his back against the wall. "Who were those guys?"

"Bandits." Artyom answered. "It looks like they were patrolling the surrounding tunnels."

"Great, we should start leaving before more of them come."

"Not really." He answered.

"That's your answer, are we going to find more them while we're at it."

"It's called getting more information out of them. There might be prisoners among them and I'll have a better understanding where we are. Though, it sounds like they came with more." As he walked out of the service room, he was shocked by what he found. When he went down the stairs, he smiled with happiness.

Then he heard the caravaneer joined him with the bandit's four-barrelled shotgun in hand. "What the hell is that?"

"That is a trolley." Came his answer. "It's their transportation, but it might be ours."

"Is that a good thing? Do we need any fuel for it?"

He shook his head. "Yes, but if the bandits are using it then they have reserves or have plenty of access to some."

"So - what next?"

"We're close to Polyanka. If we go through the opposite route, we'll have a direct access to Polis Station. However, we're going to come back after we go to Venice."

"Venice? What is that place? Why are we going there?"

Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his passport. "I heard it was a station filled with cutthroats, but we'll need to go there if you want to enter most of the stations in the Metro. I might be able to get you a passport." Artyom answered.

The caravaneer expressed her skepticism. "Really? A passport? Do I really need a piece of paper to get inside? This feels like Mojave Outpost all over again."

"It's quite a standard to have in the Metro, otherwise the guards might pull you over and do some… community service to get in the first place." He explained.

"Maybe for you," She replied. "But few of those guards might try to nail me if they're in the mood."

"Well, I didn't think about that."

"Don't worry, but I got to ask if they'll let us in."

"I don't think that will be a problem given that Venice is a station that lives on water. The only problem is the criminals." Then he took a quick glance at the equipment of the bandits. "Before we go, let's loot everything these guys have on them. It might be worth some bullets to the merchants."

Once the duo finished looting the weapons from the dead, Artyom pulled a lever and put the trolley into acceleration. He smiled knowing he was back into his home - the Metro. Yet, he made quick glances at Cass, who was adjusting her hat, and hoped there would be a way back to the Mojave. This wasn't her home and she didn't need to be here.

He activated the trolley's flashlight with a flip of a switch, lighting up the tracks further away. As they continued onward, the lights revealed a figure standing in the distance with his headlight on. Who could it be? There was a thought that he might have gone the wrong way and was heading towards Polis, but the man up ahead turned around.

However, his words showed otherwise. "I think the boys are back!"

They had arrived at a bandit hideout.

The patrolling bandit returned his gaze upon the two travellers, but realized his mistake. "Alarm! It's a fucking Ranger!"

Upon arriving at the platform area, Artyom noticed three campfires on his left and saw dozens of men scatter for their weapons. Then they began to descend for cover behind walls of sandbags or an immobilized train beyond the first defenses. He looked to his right and saw a several pillboxes opening up for them.

If they were going to survive, they had to ditch the trolley full of their weapons. "Cass, get off!" He ordered before pulling the breaks. Then he quickly jumped out of his seat and made his way towards the easily reachable positions on their right. The young man looked over his shoulder to see Cass fire her shotgun, but the recoil was twice as normal compared to the other Duplet.

When he arrived at the doorway, a bandit stepped out with his Bastard in hand, but Artyom reached for one of his disposable knives and threw it at his victim. The man reached for his throat while he climbed up and helped the caravaneer into the various hallways. Soon after, gunfire and shotgun pellets flew in their general direction just while he shut the metal door.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

She nodded her head. "There's too many of them. I don't think we can take them."

"We have to try. Let me clear the hallway before they push us out." The stalker peeked on the other side of their small little room, only to find himself stuck between two men, one on both sides.

He heard a cry from one of the men. "Over there!" Then he ducked back into the small space for his own safety.

"We're trapped."

Then he heard his companion's comment. "Looks like we're done for." She said. "They'll probably kill you before they get their hands on me."

"Don't act like that." Artyom replied. "We'll need to improvise."

"We fell into the clutches of some bandits that is not much of an improvement." One of the bandits arrived at the doorway as she pointed her shotgun in his direction. The man realized his mistake as he widened his eyes before she unleashed half of her firepower in his general direction, sending him flying against the wall. "Damn, this shotgun packs a punch."

"I think you just solved one of my problems." Then the stalker stepped out of the doorway, only to see his left side occupied by the other man. He fired away, keeping the man suppressed in his room. "Stay here and don't let them through."

The enemy took to safety just before the stalker reloaded his next magazine. Then he made his way over to the enemy's position with his scope focused on the doorway. If he tried to peek out, Artyom would be ready. There was his shadow flickering off in the distance, but it moved as he revealed himself in his sights. It would be his big mistake.

He fired his first shot, knocking his foe back, but then he fired a burst off for good measure. They struck him as blood was whipped onto the surrounding walls. After his kill, he heard Cass's shotgun blasts behind him. Hopefully, she could deal with that many bandits trying to get through.

When he arrived into the room, it was a treasure trove of weapons and supplies. Was this their arsenal? His eyes noted the heavy machine gun mounted on a tripod with a belt of ammunition already loaded. This was a perfect surprise against the enemy.

Artyom eagerly took the handles and shifted the weapon to the left where most of the bandits were placed. His pulled back the trigger before he felt his arms shake at the heavy recoil of the DShK. The hailstorm of high caliber bullets surprised many of the bandits as their numbers were thinned out. Those in the open were cut down while the others took to safety behind their cover, returning fire if possible. Yet, he realized what he was doing when he saw the needle attached to the weapon on his right. He was overheating the weapon if he continued shooting like that.

When he stopped firing, he saw the needle slowly make its way back down, but movement on the platform caught his attention. Then he heard one of the bandits express his orders. "He's using our machine gun, put that asshole down!"

Three men took the opportunity to press forward, but the stalker fired again and watched their bodies succumb to his firepower. More pressed forward, but the more sensible ones pulled them back out into the safety of their machine gun.

To Artyom's surprise, he saw gunfire coming in from the right flank one the other side of the platform. A great battle cry echoed from that tunnel before a speaker came to life with a voice of a charismatic man. "Hello, my fellow bandits! It's great to finally see you in person." Soon he saw uniforms of soldiers storming the platform as the bandits tried to fight them off. "I don't know about you, but we've been waiting for a great opportunity to remove your greedy asses out of the way by the order of the Red Line." Then he had the mood to sing through the speaker while bandits died to communist soldiers.

The young man assisted his rescuers with machine gun fire peppering those who exposed themselves to hold back the Reds. The exchange between the two sides was violent, but the bandits appeared to be dealt with killing blows compared to the Reds who shook off their wounded casualties and pressed forward.

After the fighting ceased and the platform became quiet, the stalker looked at his ammunition belt and saw three bullets hanging out, asking to be fired again. Then he looked at the Reds, who were securing their side of the platform. They raised their guns against him, but he knew that neither he nor Cass could fight off that many men, especially soldiers. Hopefully, he could explain to them who they were and what reason they had to be there.

He stepped out of the pillbox and made his way over to the small room that Cass was in. Several shotgun shell casings were on the ground while she gave a quick glance at him. "Artyom, do you know who those guys?"

Artyom slipped his VSV over his shoulder. "Do you remember Pavel?"

"Yeah, what about him?"

"He's from the same group as these guys." He answered. "They're the Red Line - the Metro's neighborhood communists. Holster your weapons."

"Why? We didn't do anything to them."

"Yes, but we don't want to have a fight with these guys."

The caravaneer reluctantly slipped her weapon over her shoulder as Artyom opened the door. On the other side of the platform, a trolley was moving on their side with several speakers attached to its armor. Although most of the men were wearing helmets, one of the men was wearing a peaked cap in a trench coat as he looked closer at the duo. "Look comrades, what do we have here?" He wondered. "Are you simple travelers or are you bandits?" The officer asked.

Artyom stepped forward as his eyes looked at the masked faces of the communist soldiers. "Hello, communists of the Red Line, my name is Artyom. My friend and I were moving away until we were attacked by bandits. We took refuge in their pillbox and were holding out before your arrival."

The communist officer expressed a friendly smile. "Well then, I appreciate your arrival. I am Comrade Captain Rusakov, the man in charge of these men."

"You do?" He asked, confused by what he meant.

"You have my thanks, really. I had orders to eliminate this group of bandits, but that machine gun certainly made it impossible to advance without taking heavy casualties. So, I should be happy about it."

"Well, you did rescue my friend and I out of a tight situation. So I should be thanking you." Artyom replied.

"Before you head off, I want to ask what reason do you have to be here? Shouldn't you be going towards Polis? It's safer."

"I'm heading to Venice to get my friend a passport. She might not be able to enter Polis with me." He answered. "What brings the Red Line this close to Polis? It's rather strange that you would be away from your territory."

Then the captain stepped out of the trolley with his hands behind his backs. "Have you been living on the surface? The Polis Council declared an emergency-wide alert to all stations in the Metro, everyone is under attack by an external threat. I was tasked in clearing a path from Polis to Paveletskaya."

How long was he out of the loop? Did something drastic happen while he was away? "An external threat? What could possibly threaten the whole of the Metro?" Artyom asked.

"Have you ever heard of the Legion?"

Cass began to ask her question. "The Legion - as in Caesar's Legion?"

Captain Rusakov raised his eyebrows. "You know more about them?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. Artyom and I were ambushed once. We were lucky enough to kill them all and escape."

"I see. If you're going to Venice, I recommend an alternative route."

"Why?" The stalker wondered. "By my map, Polyanka is a straight way to Venice."

The captain's warm expression disappeared. "You should update it. Polyanka is not a place no one should go. I sent a patrol there once, only one man came back and was a crying mess. A good communist doesn't believe in superstitions, but I truly believe there is something there that did something to my patrol."

It was a warning. Still, it was better than trekking across the surface of Moscow. "Thank you for the warning, but I think I could manage."

Rusakov gave a tip of his hat over to them. "If you proceed, I wish the best of luck to you." He answered. "Farewell, comrade Artyom. I hope you get to the other side."

When Artyom and Cass returned to their trolley, they accelerated forward into the abyss of the tunnels, waving a final farewell to their communist rescuers.

* * *

Author's Note: Anybody who has read the _Metro 2033 (Novel)_ would get the reference put into this chapter.


	29. Chapter 29: Through Darkness

Artyom kept his eyes forward, scanning the edges of the light the trolley could give off. As he pushed the accelerator, Cass reached into her pocket and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. "How long do you think we'll get there?" She asked before taking a quick swig at the hard liquor.

Without turning his head, the stalker was quick to answer. "According to my map, we should be reaching Polyanka."

"You seem to be taking your sweet time." The caravaneer added.

"I'd rather be cautious and run into a bandit ambush that happened earlier."

Up ahead, there was a small campfire in the distance with a single person sitting on a metal chair while the burning wood was warming a tea kettle hanging above. The stranger turned his head at their arrival, watching them while the young man decelerated the trolley. Then he waved his hand as he got closer.

"We have company."

When the trolley stopped at the stranger's campsite, he found an old man with his beard designed in a strange style Artyom had never seen before. The stranger's outfit was very modest, especially when compared to a stalker like Bourbon. This man was strange indeed, but he was friendly. Hopefully, he wasn't a bandit, but if he was there would have been bodies and a trap would have been sprung. "Hello, young man." Then he glanced over to the woman. "Young lady, what brings you two into this tunnel?"

He didn't want to put too much trust in someone he didn't know, but there had to be some degree of truth involved. "My friend an I are heading to Venice, we're taking a route through Polyanka." Artyom answered.

The stranger's demeanor changed. "You're heading through there? You must have made a mistake."

Artyom took a glance at his map. "No, it says on my map that it is a valid route."

He rose from his seat and walked over to the stalker's side of the trolley. Then his hand reached out. "May I see your map?"

Without a question, he handed him his only map to navigate through the Metro into the hands of a man who he didn't know. The old man's eyes looked through the map and shook his head. "This map is old. Looks like it hasn't been updated since the bombs fell." Then he reached into his clipboard and handed it over to him. "How about a trade? I have memorized these tunnels long enough, but you seem to be new at traveling. For your sake, I think you need my map more than this old piece of junk."

"I… I think that would help. Thank you." His eyes looked at the map he was given, only to see the man's notes on the various tunnels throughout the Metro. However, he noticed something strange about the lines between the stations. His eyes would notice a green line between on station and another, but when he was about to look it over the color changed to red. What did that mean? "What kind of map is this?" Artyom wondered while Cass looked over his map. It was almost… magical in some degree.

"Where did you get this map?" He asked.

"It's a one of its kind." The old man replied. "I don't think you'll ever find a map to match that artifact in terms of keeping you safe in your travels." Then he nodded his head to the tracks behind him. "I suggest you leave Polyanka when you have the chance."

"I have to go to Venice right now. My friend can't go into Polis without a passport."

"Look at the station and look at what you see."

Artyom listened to what the man said as his gaze fell upon the line between Polis and Polyanka. Unlike many of the other lines, this one was pitch black as the darkness throughout the Metro.

"The map is telling you it's certain death."

Cass leaned over from her seat to get a closer look. "Artyom and I have endured plenty, I think we could handle this place."

"It's not the normal kind of danger that you should be worried about."

Artyom spoke his mind, unconvinced by the old man's warnings. "Cass and I will proceed into Polyanka, no matter what." He told him. "I appreciate the advice, but what could be so dangerous for two armed people?"

He shook his head in disbelief. "If you insist on going, then allow me to accompany you. Few have been through Polyanka and I doubt few will talk about their experiences in the station."

"Why should I bring you along?"

"Young man, that station was my home. I know better than any outsider knows about the station's existence."

Then the caravaneer spoke her mind. "I don't know, pal. It's rather odd for a stranger to offer up his services to help us when he's trying to tell us to leave." She said.

He thought for a moment, but Cass was right to some degree. His time in the Mojave told him not to easily trust strangers for a moment, but this wasn't the Mojave. Yet, this old man claimed this station was his home. There must have been some degree of truth to that if he's camping close to the place he once lived in. However, he could have just left and stayed at another station if it was abandoned. Was there something about this place that he didn't want normal people to endure? Then Artyom thought about the Red officer he had met earlier, he had said something about his men going missing in that station. Did this old man know something that caused their demise? "We'll let you accompany us, but if you try anything funny Cass and I will put you down."

The stranger shook his head. "Hopefully, it will never come to that." Then he gave his hand out to the driver. "My name is Khan, I'll be your guide for your way through Polyanka." He began.

Then Artyom began to properly introduce himself to him. "I'm Artyom," Then he looked over to the woman sitting beside him. "And this is Cass."

Khan's hand began brushing his beard. "Cass… that's and odd name."

"What's wrong with it?" She asked while the stalker glanced over to her reaching over to her shotgun.

"It's not Russian." He answered. "Your name is not common around these parts, but perhaps you must be from the Arbat Confederation. Just be careful not to stumble into Nazis. They will not be kind to you." Then he looked towards the rails ahead of the trolley. "Shall we proceed?"

Artyom looked over at the various items around the campfire. "Are you going to get your stuff?"

Khan smiled. "Don't worry, young man. Few have the courage to approach the station, I doubt my belongings will be taken. Besides, I intend to come back for them after I guide you through the station." Then he climbed onto the trolley as they drove forward into Khan's home station.

* * *

When they arrived at the station's doors, the trio dismounted from their trolley as Khan walked up to the shut doors while Artyom and Cass carried their belongings with them. Looking at how tight the doors have been locked for how long. Then Cass made the most obvious comment about the doors. "It's locked, you know." She began. "How do you plan to get us in?"

Khan chuckled. "Don't let the door's appearance get to you." He countered. "These doors haven't been opened for a very long time and I'm just reminded of my time I left this station."

"So what was so special about this place?" The caravaneer wondered.

"It was one of the few stations that fell to the mutants. Most stations go empty because it's hard to grow mushrooms or there is some kind of natural hazard that threatens the people living there. Here - we abandoned it because of the mutants. The nosalises to be precise."

"So how do we get in?"

"Tell me Artyom, do you have your battery charger on you?" He asked.

Under the weight of the weapons, Artyom still had a chance to speak. "Yes." Why did Khan ask that question? It didn't make any sense.

"Do you have your lighter?"

"Yes. Why do you ask?"

Khan pointed his finger to the left, revealing a power station nearby. "The former to open up these doors and the later if our flashlights go out."

The stalker made his way towards the power station, connecting his battery charger up to the machine before he immediately charged the doors. He felt the lights click to life over him before the doors began to slowly awake from their slumber. After enough power was put into the station, Artyom detached his equipment away and found Khan slip through the doors. Keep your light on, we do not want to remain in the dark unless we become lost forever.

He was quick to turn on his flashlight before Cass caught his attention. "May I have your Pip-Boy?" She asked.

"Why?"

"I don't know, but this place feels odd. Far creepier than the Sierra Madre."

Artyom turned his knapsack to her as she began to dig into his inventory. "Sure, I haven't had the opportunity to use it since we arrived in this place. Have at it."

After she fished his Pip-Boy out, they were quick to follow Khan into the darkness. There was light up ahead, but it paused to have it's moment of flickering life. However, past it was a broken train. Each flicker the status of the train would have appeared to be in disrepair, but when it stopped it's state was better than before.

The old man stopped before the light and walked to his right to a set of pipes attached to the tunnels. He placed his ear close against the metal, but then he took a step back. "They know we are here."

"Who knows?" Cass wondered.

"Polyanka will show you." He answered. "Listen to the pipes, but not for too long."

Artyom was sure this man was hearing things, but rather than insult the man who gave him his updated map he took the chance to do what he said. He heard Cass follow him as they both pressed their ear against the coldness of the metal. "I don't hear anything."

"Wait for it."

Howls of wind blew through the pipes, but there was distinct sound the stalker could not forget. In the distance, he could hear the laughing of children. He smiled, what was so bad about this.

Then the laughing stopped. There was nothing, but silence.

A shrieking cry roared into his eardrum as he and Cass jumped back in surprise. Artyom immediately grabbed for his suppressed sub-machine gun, but his companion fired off all four barrels of her weapon. "What the actual fuck?!" The caravaneer screamed terrified before loading the next four shotgun shells into place.

Then Khan expressed his comments. "Some believe to be some psychic influence, but I believe it is the voice of the tunnels. I recommend that you stay close, there might be… strange phenomenons that might kill you without my advice." He walked forward and led the way while Cass turned on a light from her Pip-Boy.

The group continued through the tunnel by climbing into the broken train filled with webs all around. However, Artyom charged his flashlight to the fullest to find skeletons littered around. "The skeletons - who died here?"

"These corpses have been here before the war." He said, breaking away the spider webs while the small creatures that occupy them scattered away from their disturbance of their home. "The tunnel collapsed on them and they were all waiting for help to arrive, I doubt they even knew there was a war happening above."

"That is such a terrible way to die."

"Indeed. Keep your light on, this grave sight might be more alive than you think." Khan added.

"Thank you for making me uncomfortable, old man."

"The truth is always uncomfortable."

Artyom remained silent throughout the banter. He was just like these people here, pre-war survivors, innocents who were met with an untimely end. They suffered all because of a war they never knew. "How far?" He asked.

"Very far." Khan answered. "It will take some time to get to the other side."

Their flashlights began to flicker, including the Pip-Boy on Cass's arm as the train began to creak. Whispers echoed throughout the train cars, he looked around to find who was making the noise, only to find nobody present. When Khan entered the next train car, his flashlight was flickering rapidly before the old man disappeared in the darkness. "Khan?"

Then he heard Cass talk. "Artyom, I think were hallucinating. Never have I seen so much weird shit in one day."

Upon looking on his right, he saw a service tunnel connected to the pipes that lead off into a different path. There was a small campfire in the distance with two children standing there, staring back at him. Then they disappeared before his very eyes as he heard several people crying from that path.

He felt his friend tap him on the shoulder, catching his attention. "Somebody is up ahead."

Artyom was quick to turn his full attention towards the other half of the train, only to see a shadow of a man, but without his body running towards him. It appeared there was something coming right after him, but there was nothing. Yet, he was able to hear the man's cries as he ran towards the young man.

When the shadow ran into him, the young man began to see flashbacks. Reality beginning to flee from him as he heard ringing and people crying in the distance. He found himself standing at the very space where he stood, before gunfire caught his attention. Then he looked over his shoulder to find that Cass wasn't there with him. "Where am I?" He wondered.

A cry in the distance caught his attention. "Help me!" A woman shouted to the top of her lung, but a nosalis growl in the distance caught ended her screaming.

He saw a man on the other side of the train climb up and run towards him as a nosalis was chasing after him. His yelled in terror before the beast jumped forward and caught up with him.

His flashback ended when he heard Cass's voice. "Hey, are you okay?!" Artyom blinked his eyes until he found the reality with the skeletons littered around. This time, she stood in front of him waving her hand in front of him. "Artyom, wake up!"

The stalker shook his head at the small memory of the man's death before he proceeded forward.

"What's wrong?"

"Did you see the shadow of the man?"

"Yeah, he disappeared when he ran into you. What happened?"

"I… I saw his memory, the last memory of his death."

"We should get out of here." She suggested. "I knew there was something bad about this place."

The duo began to run forward, hoping to find their guide or get out of the train filled with this strange occurrences that they couldn't understand. However, they both looked around to find shadows of people sitting in their seats or standing and holding on to the handles. When they reached the other side of the train car and began in another, their reality was gone.

Here, they found people sitting on their train ride. No bones and spiderwebs in the way. Some were reading, others were conversing while the rest simply kept to themselves. The train was moving, but their transportation shook at a thunder above. Women and children screamed while the men and the elders tried to protect their loved ones or themselves. Soon their train shook violently as people screamed for their lives.

It all disappeared before Artyom awoke to find Khan's flashlight looking down at him while his hands were holding his collar. "Young man, wake up!"

He blinked before him as the old Russian smiled in relief.

"Stay there, I'll go check on your friend and see how's she's doing."

He sat up while he began to check on Cass's status. Meanwhile, Artyom felt a strange vibe coming throughout the air. Something was coming towards them as he brought his weapon to bear.

"Are you awake?"

"Yeah." She answered. "I can see why you didn't want us to come here. We're running around seeing weird stuff."

On the other side of the train car, there was a small blue light that slowly moved while they heard zaps of lightning. "Stand up, quick!" Khan ordered as the group stood up to face what was coming. "Whatever you do, don't move. It will come after us if you do." The blue light made its way towards the doorway, revealing itself towards the party.

"What is that thing? I've never seen it before."

When it came closer, the old strange man was quick to answer. "That thing is what we call an anomaly in these tunnels. A new phenomenon in a new world."

The anomaly slowly approached them before zapping any metal out of place and lighting the webs on fire. Then it stopped for a moment. A bestial cry echoed from afar before the strange sighting bounced up and down as it made its way towards the creature that made the noise. There were dozens of zapping noises before a loud explosions was unleashed.

"Goddamn." Cass commented. "I traveled through many strange places within the NCR, but this just tops it off."

Khan turned around. "The NCR? It's rather strange that I once knew a woman who spoke of the New California Republic."

Artyom stepped aside to see the old man taking a good look at the caravaneer. "You do? How the hell do you know that?"

His hand began combing through his beard. "I once boarded a train to help a stalker get away from death. She was a captive of these strange foreigners, but I was able to dispatch them with ease. The last time I saw her, she was with a man who went by the name of Bourbon."

Immediately, he recognized a name in that sentence. "Wait, you know Bourbon?!" Artyom exclaimed with ecstasy.

"Yes. Do you know him?"

The stalker nodded his head in confirmation. "We both traveled together before he brought me back to Exhibition. The last time we saw each other… I ended up in a place where Cass is from."

"You're from Exhibition."

"Yeah, what of it."

"I'll tell you the news after we leave this place. It's not safe to stay." He replied. "Follow me."

Upon leaving the train the trio began to leave the confines of the train to their destination as they walked through the small path in the rubble. Each each step, their boots began to grind against the rubble. The guide pulled out his Kalash from his back when he became the first to get out from the rubble-filled path.

Then Artyom began to notice something, he was tense while he held his rifle. "Is there something wrong?"

Khan pointed his finger forward ahead at a place that appeared to be a defensive barrier. "Look forward, what do you see?"

What did he meant by this? He did what was asked of him with his gaze staring past Khan as he noticed dozens of armed guards standing between them and a broken gate. Well… it was only their shadows. "Who are they?"

"I don't think _who_ is applicable to these ghosts." The old man answered. "Follow me and stay at my back, but don't touch the silhouettes."

The caravaneer spoke her mind. "What is wrong with that?"

"Unless you want to relive their deaths, I recommend that you stay away and keep your life."

"I was simply asking."

"Yes, but I need to emphasis on this." Khan replied. "There is no shortage of idiots." Then he stepped forward, mere meters away from the ghosts. "What I am about to do should stay here in Polyanka. Promise me this that none of you will tell anybody about this."

"Okay, I promise."

"Artyom?"

The young man looked at the ghosts and then turned his back towards the doors in the distance. "I promise. I truly don't want to be reminded of this place. It's disturbing."

"That is why those doors are closed." Their guide walked forward as he placed his hands together in a prayer-like manner. "Casto noi lapide asterium manto, alaum raum om, alaum raum om."

The words he spoke was the strangest he ever said, it was unlike anything he ever heard of. Yet, their effect showed when the shadows of dead men stepped away from him while the group followed after them. Once they got past the ghosts, Artyom and Cass were quick to close the distance before they closed their formation and remained on guard.

Cass spoke her mind. "I know it's odd of me to ask you, but how were you able to do that?"

The strange man that stood before them lowered his head. "It's personal." He answered. "The men who died at their post, I knew them." Then he expressed a large sigh. "I was there when they died, only I survived."

They continued to travel past the gate while Artyom pondered at the mention of what Khan meant when he said ghosts. "Sir, may I ask you a question?"

"It depends on what that may be."

"You called those shadows ghosts? What made you say that?"

Khan shook his head. "When the bombs fell, I noticed that these shadows started appearing. I even asked scientists about this strange sighting, but they merely dismiss this as mere anomalies or hallucinations. I've tried to agree with that reasoning, but I just can't. Ever since the mutants attacked this station there is evidence that proves otherwise. There were twenty-one soldiers who fought at the great battle we have just left behind, but there are only twenty who remain. My reason why I refer to those shadows as ghosts is simple. After we destroyed our world above the Metro, we also destroyed Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory." He explained. "With the destruction of the afterlife, the souls who have died during or after the bombings, have nowhere else to go and are tied down in the very place where they last died. The moving shadows? A memory of their final moments before the reaper takes them, anybody who gets in their way or dares to touch them usually join them. It's harsh, but it is a fitting punishment for a crime humanity committed against itself. Wouldn't you agree?"

"That is a lot to take in." Cass commented. "I don't the Mojave has endured anything like that except for the ghost people of the Sierra Madre, but otherwise this is just screwed up."

"Indeed it is. Follow me, we shouldn't be too far from the exit."

* * *

After they had left the station, it was refreshing to leave the weird sightings the stalker and the caravaneer had endured. Having seen that, Artyom would intend to keep his promise about what Khan did to protect them. Hopefully, Cass will on her end of the bargain, but he'll think about it after they make their way to Venice.

They found themselves stopped by a small dock with various bodies littered around while a cache of ammo and weapons were set up beside a bell. Khan walked up to it and pulled the rope attached, ringing the bells attached to pillars above the water. "Wait here, a fisherman should be close by to reach you."

Cass was quick to thank him. "Thank you for helping us out, I didn't expect that from someone like yourself. It's just that the Mojave has been hard on me."

The old man smiled. "You're welcome, both of you. I must return to my camp, but here is some advice to get to Polis and avoid crossing Polyanka. Once you are finished with your business in Venice, head north towards the Theatr station owned by the Red Line, but don't enter it. There should be a path heading west towards the Eastern Gate of Polis."

Artyom nodded his head in acknowledgment, but when the old man was about to depart he thought about Khan's comment about his home station. "You said you had news about my home station. Is there anything you can tell me what happened?"

He paused in his tracks before turning around to confront the stalker. "What I know is hearsay, but the tunnel to Exhibition has been closed off due to some attack by a bunch of foreigners."

"What about the people? Did anybody get out?"

"From what I heard from others, yes. Miller's men arrived on time to evacuate the station as soon as possible before they had to blow the tunnel up." Khan answered. "As for where they went, I have not a single clue, but why are you concerned? Is there somebody important there?"

"Yes. My stepfather is-was the station commander." He replied. "I just want to know if he survived."

"I understand your plight. The man who raised you is in danger and you want to see if he's safe. That is understandable. Perhaps you may find some answers in Polis, maybe not, but it is worth a shot."

"Thank you." Artyom said with full honesty. This was good news about his home.

"No problem, but I do have some words that you might need to consider."

"What would that be?"

"Now that your home is gone, what shall you do? Where shall you go? You have a long road ahead of you. You may want to consider becoming a stalker, but you will need a place to find comfort and rest."

"I don't know. There were aspirations for me to leave my station and explore the rest of the Metro, but I didn't think my home would be gone forever."

Khan smiled. "I don't think you'll have a problem with that. You may find where you least expect it. Goodbye Artyom Alekseyevich Chyornyj and farewell Rose of Sharon Cassidy." Then he turned his back on them before running into the darkness with only his headlight to light the way.

Artyom took a glance at Cass at the awkward moment that had just happened, only to find the woman surprised. "Hold on a moment, I didn't even tell him my full name. How the hell did he know that?"

There was a cry in the distance before they saw two men on a 'boat' slowly making its way towards the dock. "Ahoy there, strangers! We fishermen are coming to pick you up. Hang tight!"

* * *

Author's Note: I had some extra free time on my hands to get a chapter done before I spend the rest of my weekend for finals, but I think it's worth noting something. Discounting stupid and terrible fics I've typed up, this is perhaps the longest-running chapter I've created. Man does that feel good. Too bad I'm not getting plenty of reviews on .


	30. Chapter 30: Vodka and Whiskey

It took hours for the fishermen to make their way through a maze network of flooded tunnels, some tunnels completely inaccessible due to being filled to the brim. One of the fishermen who was controlling the raft spoke his mind. "I must say, both of you must have been lucky to have come through Polyanka. I've met very few people who have traveled through that station and lived to tell the tale. My name is Fedor by the way, one of the fishermen of Venice and my stalker friend is Simon."

Cass was quick to enter into the conversation. "I'm Cass and my friend's name is Artyom."

"So? What brings you to Venice? It's rather odd that a Ranger and his friend should be traveling over to some random independent station."

Yet, Artyom was eager to correct him. "I'm not a Ranger, I'm a stalker."

"You're not?"

He shook his head.

"Shit, I almost mistaken you for one."

Simon, who remained silent after all of this time, spoke his mind. "Do you know the punishment for impersonating a Ranger? You would be lucky if their punishment is letting you leave without the armor."

Fedor shook his head. "Don't mind the kid, he's not fond of people like to break the law. I don't blame him since we have to deal with the zijulk at Venice."

"What?" Cass wondered. "I didn't understand what you meant by that."

"Criminals, scum of the earth." The fisherman answered. "Venice is notorious for having gangsters run around and think they own the place. Truth is, the station commander let's it happen since it's the only way to keep order."

"By letting criminals run free? That doesn't sound so efficient."

"True, but what can a bunch of old men do? Which brings me back to a question, what reason are you here for?" Fedor asked.

"We're going to sell off some weapons that we got off some bandits and then I'm going to try and buy a proper passport for my friend."

"You did a smart thing." The old fisherman answered. "It's far cheaper than what Hansa charges for a normal passport. They might be shitty, but Polis even accepts them."

"Really?"

"Yeah. They're okay as long as you got some form of documents."

Then the other stalker spoke. "You killed some bandits? That's quite an achievement for two people. How many did you kill?"

"I don't know," Artyom answered. "But thankfully the Red Line was there to help us out. Otherwise we would have died."

The caravaneer chuckled. "We almost got trapped until my pal was able to find a machine gun and hold them off."

"Maybe I could use a few gunslingers to take out some gangsters, how about that?"

Then Fedor was quick to berate him. "Simon, don't even think about it. The station commander already put you out on my raft of all people as punishment, it's bad enough you're on his bad side."

A loud whistle caught the attention of the entire group as they all looked forward. There was a light on the other end with a small gate with spikes to keep the outsiders between the locals and the underwater world on the outside. "Who goes there?" A man called out from afar.

"It's me, Fedor!" He shouted back. "Simon and I found some travelers from Polyanka. I thought I should drop them off before I bring in another catch! How about you open the gate, Semenovich?"

"Maybe you could bring someone nice for once. Like - I don't know - a girl."

"Then you're in for a surprise."

As the gate was raised, Artyom noticed the caravaneer was uncomfortable with the mention of her arrival when the raft showed up at the gatekeeper's post. An old bald man was standing behind the control box with his eyes widening at the sight of her. "God damn, she's quite a sight. How about I ask you out to dinner young lady?"

Her words were now filled with venom. "How about I come over there and kick your ass into the water?"

"Damn, she has a bite. Quite a good catch."

Then the fisherman de-escalated the situation. "Yeah, but what are you going to do with her, huh? You're too old for that shit. For are you know she might be the reaper incarnate."

"You can laugh now, but Semenovich will outlive you all!"

When they were past the gatekeeper, the raft made its way deep into the station where Artyom was amazed by the sight. As they turned the corner, Artyom was impressed by the ingenuity of the station's way of surviving. Of course it was flooded with water, but the mere fact they built an entire society on it. It's name was a tribute to the actual city he once read in a book, but to see something like this for the first time was intriguing.

By the time the raft stopped, Simon introduced them to the station. "Welcome to Venice, I hope both of you enjoy your stay whether it's temporary or permanent."

The duo stepped off the raft before their mode of transportation was leaving them in this unknown place. Even though it was part of the Metro, Artyom found himself in a similar situation when he was at Prospekt Mira with Bourbon.

Then he heard Cass growl in anger. "I really hate men like that." She commented.

The stalker was quite concerned what she meant by that. "What do you mean?"

"That old creep reminded me of a time when I was young. Assholes who thought they could get ahold of my ass like its a goddamn toy. I shouldn't be surprised that the Metro has those kinds of people as well."

"Hopefully, we could get out of this place as soon as possible." Artyom replied.

"Why is that?"

"I almost stirred up trouble at another station, their guards were not so happy I was accompanying a man who owed them plenty of cartridges."

"Well then, let's get rid of our dead weight."

"Yes, we'll get something to eat before I make our way to get you a passport." A man was walking by before he caught his attention. "Excuse me, do you know where there is a weapon merchant to go by?"

The stranger raised his eyebrows with his fishing pole resting on his shoulder. "You're new here? Well, I don't blame you." Then his finger pointed to the duo's left. "He's right over there."

Upon turning their heads to their left, a middle-aged man was sitting on several ammunition crates besides weapon panels for showcasing. "Spasibo."

"No problem, young man. Just stay clear of the gangsters."

They made their way towards the merchant by the wall, who was advertising his weapons to all in the Metro. "Come and buy, they are the best weapons in the Metro! You won't get nothing like them at all!"

When Artyom presented himself to the merchant, he expressed a warm smile to the man in question. "Excuse me, I'm here to sell some weapons."

"You are? Let's see what you got?"

"Ladna, Cass bring your guns out."

One-by-one, a dozen of weapons, shotguns, semi-auto pistols, and makeshift sub-machine guns were given to the merchant. He began to estimate the worth of the weapons as he reached for his bag filled with cartridges. "These were used, yes?"

He nodded his head. "I'll pay for it, but they'll be three-fourths of what they used to cost. Is that okay with you?"

"Da. I hope it's acceptable."

"Somewhat, I can hand enough bullets on hand, but the rest will come as a receivable from Hansa."

"You don't have enough?" Cass wondered.

"Sadly, yes. The gangsters have made it difficult for me to make money, any more and I'll be handing out more than I can chew. I hope both of you can understand my plight."

How could he avert this problem for the merchant? "You don't have the bullets on hand, correct?"

"Yes."

"How about I buy what I like?" Artyom suggested. "I could appreciate some different gear."

"Very well, take a look at my shop."

When the merchant uncovered the panels, the stalker noted a highly renowned weapon of the Metro, one many appreciated when they got their hands on them. He could get rid of his suppressed sub-machine gun for an assault rifle that he truly wanted. Of course, it wasn't Bourbon's assault rifle, but he needed an upgrade. "How much for the Kalash?"

"Seventy-five bullets." The merchant answered. "The attachments are a standard. Is it a buy or a trade-out?"

"Trade-out, but I'll be adding some attachments to my weapon."

* * *

When they were finished with their transactions, Artyom and Cass walked into a bar with three empty tables present and nobody else present aside from the bartender. Yet, Cass took the opportunity to take a seat at one of the tables with relief. "Finally, a bar."

The bartender turned around and noted their arrival before he greeted them with a warm chuckle. "Welcome to my bar. It looks like both of you are new here. What can I do for you?" He asked before taking his furry hat off to scratch his head.

Artyom chuckled at the thought. "What do you have here?"

"Unlike most of the stations who might serve rat or pork, Venice has a nice specialty with its shrimp population. Do you want some?"

He nodded his head.

"Alright, ten bullets per person." The stalker made his way to the bartender to dispense the military-grade rounds out of the cartridge before the bartender leaned forward to whisper to him. "Normally, you would have to pay extra for the beer, but consider a gift from me since you're here with your lady."

That was quite a relief before the bartender whistled to a cook opposite of the bar, who immediately began chopping his meat and dumping them into a pot. Then he was handed two cups filled with beer as he made his way over to the caravaneer.

Cass smiled at the beverage before she took her cup and sipped it between her lips. Once she was finished, her face didn't appear to like it. "I'll admit… that was an interesting taste. I don't think I'll forget that."

Artyom rolled his eyes. "It's an acquired taste that's for sure." Before taking his sip from his cup as well. This time, he felt the burning sensation throughout his throat. "However, the bartender was handing it out for free."

"So why come here and eat when we had our rations?"

"Because it's respectful to the locals. It gives them some money throughout the station while we get a good time. Something I learned when I first left my home station."

"Really?" She asked. "When did you learn that?"

"After our caravan was ambushed by nosalises."

"Now that's a story to tell. Mind letting me hear of it? I'm rather curious."

He chuckled at the thought before taking off his helmet and placing it on the table. "It started out with me and three other travelers. My stepfather was sending supplies to Riga and everything was going well until the main tunnel had collapsed. Thankfully, we went into an alternative tunnel to get us there, but… we were knocked out."

"What happened then? How did you survive the encounter? Don't leave me hanging, you have a story right there."

"I was the first to wake up from a dream, but I was quick to wake up a friend of mine - Eugine." Artyom answered. "We saw the pack of nosalises, I had to kill them from reaching Eugine while he pushed the trolley. I had some close calls, but Eugine handed his shotgun over to me - the very same one you got to use."

Her eyes began to widen in surprise. "That shotgun was his?" She wondered. "If we do meet him, I want to thank him."

"That depends. God only knows where everyone is at Exhibition. As for the story, one of the mutants caught one of our people and killed him. I almost died on the way when I fell out. Thankfully, they covered me before they burned the entire tunnel out with a flamethrower."

"You were in a caravan? Once we get back to the Mojave, I might hire you to be the head security of my caravan company… or what's left of them."

She had her own company? "That's quite a large responsibility. I don't think I'm capable."

"Bullshit." She replied. "You trekked all the way from the Mojave and into the Sierra Madre just to rescue my ass. That's dedication right there. The only other person who was with you was the communist, but I doubt he knew the area any better than you did."

He didn't want anybody hearing their conversation as he noted the bartender busily cleaning his cups. "You can thank the Dark Ones for getting me there."

Cass took another sip. "My point stands. You came back for me. The people who did work for me either abandoned or skipped me for other companies like the Crimson Caravan."

"You said something happened to your caravan, what happened?"

"They were hit by raiders, nothing else left of them."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

She shook her head. "There's no need to say sorry. It wasn't your fault in the first place."

A very large man in a butcher's apron walked up to them with two bowls ready for the meal. "Here's your meal of fresh shrimp mixed in mushroom sauce and fish bits."

Her expression was quite surprised. "You guys have fish here?"

The butcher nodded his head. "Yes. Of course, the radiation mutated them to have legs, but we have fish. Is that a problem?"

"No, it's just that I haven't had fish before."

He chuckled. "Then you're going to enjoy this meal. Both of you enjoy."

After he left, Artyom grabbed his spoon and began scooping up the meat in the sauce. When he took his first spoonful, he savored the taste of hot spices mixed with the meat. "This is honestly better than what I had in Prospekt Mira."

"What did you have?" She asked.

"Cooked rats."

"What's wrong with that?"

The young man didn't wanted to be reminded of his terrible memory of such creatures, how his original home station was flooded in their endless numbers. Rather than spoil the mood, he took the opportunity to dismiss it. "Let's just say I had a bad time with rats."

When she took the opportunity, her first words of the food came out. "H-Hot. I didn't think much of it, but what did the cooks put in it."

"Spices. Back before the bombs fell, I once read that Russia was a multi-ethnic nation filled with various cultures." Artyom began. "When the bombs fell, people were less likely to care which culture you came from as long as the food was warm and tastes good."

"Shit, we don't get anything like that in the Mojave. All we get is a slab of meat on our plate, some vegetables and that's it."

The stalker smiled at the thought. "Welcome to the Metro." Then he noticed Cass's expression change. "What's wrong?"

"We got trouble." The caravaneer answered. "There are five guys who are looking for it. Don't turn around, we'll be asking for it."

He heard one of the men call out the bartender. "Sergei, why don't you give us some of the best drinks we could buy?"

Artyom looked at the bartender to see him comply to their requests. "Ladna, I'll get you the best of drinks."

"Very good. How about a nice meal to go with that?"

"Oleg, five meals! Don't forget the pork!"

The group began to take their seats all except one, who made his way over to their table. "That's quite a pretty lady you have right here. Why don't you leave so she can be in the company of a real man?"

Artyom looked up from his seat to find out that all of the gangsters were wearing vests, displaying their loyalty to their group. "I'm sorry, but this seat is taken."

"That's not a request, move your ass."

"This seat is taken." He replied.

"Oh hell it is."

Then Sergei spoke his mind. "Misha, no need to start a fight. I could get you a chair."

"Fuck your chair!" The gangster replied. "This stalker thinks he can act tough, I'll bet all of you ten bullets this punk won't last a punch."

To everyone's surprise, Cass spoke her mind. "I bet double that I'll kick all of your asses before you wake up the next day."

"Shut up, bitch. No one asked you!"

The caravaneer immediately grabbed her bowl and splashed it in his face. He screamed at the burning sauce before. The others stood up from their seats to confront them.

"Let's teach these fuckers a new one!"

One of the men descended on her, but she punched him before taking one big sip of her cup of beer. "Something fun for once." Cass commented before the brawl began.

Artyom was quick to unsheathe his knife; however, he had no intention of using the blade. The gangster tossed a punch in his direction, but he dodged to the left of his fist and allowed an uppercut to embrace his brass knuckles. His body was knocked back against the net railing, where he fell off and landed in the water.

A second man confronted him as he grabbed one of the chairs and swung it in his direction.

He backed up, slipping past his table while he noticed Cass grab a bottle and smashed it on Misha's head before he slumped to the ground.

Yet, the man confronting him was pushing him away by using the chair's legs to keep him from getting closer. Rather than waste his time, Artyom sheathed his knife and turned the table into a battering ram as he shoved the gangster back. However, he was quick to grab his armored helmet as he pushed his victim into the waters of Venice alongside his other pal.

Meanwhile, Cass received a punch from one of the men, only to find him look at his hand in pain. "Goddamn, what the hell is that thing made of?" Before he backed away alongside with another gangster. "Fuck this, we'll get you next time."

She treat the threat as much. "Then we'll kick your ass next time."

However, the stalker and the caravaneer saw a distressed Sergei behind the bar. "Fucking hell, you guys just made mess of my bar. That bottle almost cost me a fortune to make."

"I'm sorry about that."

"Sorry? No amount of sorry is going to-"

He was interrupted when Artyom walked up to him and handed him a cartridge. "We're sorry we caused some trouble in your bar and your bottle."

Sergei scratched his unshaven chin before he took the bullets. "Okay, I'll accept as long as that shit doesn't happen again, understand?"

The young man nodded his head. "Yes."

"You guys should get going, the station commander is not going to like this when he hears you caused a fight with the gangsters."

"I've got some business here. Is there a place we can lay low until it blows over?"

The bartender nodded his head and point to his right. "Follow the path on my right and you'll find Sasha's… hotel. The son of a bitch pays high to newcomers, but he's worth it if you're escaping the commander's watchful eye."

"Thank you, I'll get going."

* * *

The bartender's suggestion was very helpful as they managed to find a small shack enough for two beds. When Artyom closed the door shut, they both sat upon their temporary quarters while Cass pulled out a bottle of whiskey. "It's been awhile since I got into a bar fight. Feels fun to enjoy."

Yet, Artyom wasn't amused. "You have a very strange definition of fun."

"What's wrong with that? A girl can't get into a fight?"

He shook his head. "No, none of that. We should be lucky the commander didn't find us and toss our ass out of the station."

The caravaneer's took a large swig from the bottle while her cheeks were showing red. After she finished downing the whole bottle, the woman spoke out her thoughts. "Assholes, I'm still hungry."

Artyom took off his knapsack and placed his newly acquired pneumatic weapon and Kalash on the side as he reached down to bring out two cans. "Don't worry, I still have some of our rations that I found from the Sierra Madre. It should be enough for two of us."

"How nice, you brought food."

"Always prepared." Then he noticed something odd when the caravaneer walked over to his side of the shack. "Cass, what's wrong with you?"

"I'm in the mood for both of us to spend a bit of time together." She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "How about now?"

"I think that's the alcohol kicking in." He commented.

She rolled her eyes. "Thank you for ruining the moment." Then Cass walked back to her bed and grabbed another bottle. "I was hoping we'd spend an intimate moment together."

"Why is that?"

"You saved my life. Most people in the wasteland would leave people they only met for several days for dead. I'd think you'd deserve something for your effort."

Artyom pulled the lid off the can of cram. "I did it because it was a decent thing for me to do, not so I could sleep with you. Taking advantage over people is something I look down upon."

"That's what I like about you, Artyom. You did it because it was a good deed, not because you saw my ass like the rest of the assholes I've met in this place."

He drew his knife out and began eating bits from inside. "Still don't see why you see me so special. I'm sure there are men out there who are better than me."

"Maybe you don't see it."

* * *

Author's Note: I feel like I need some criticism on the relationship between Artyom and Cass, but I can't seem to put my finger on it. Would be helpful if somebody pointed it out given that I don't exactly feel right about the end of the chapter.

* * *

 **Someguy the anon** : Shrimps. Very big shrimps… with hand grenades.

 **Mandalore the Freedom** : I disagree about those places being more evil than Polyanka. If you play the Khan level of the Chronicles DLC or watch a video about it, one of the most terrifying horrors is the swarm of rats that flood the areas around the station. They are the ones that killed Artyom's mother and he still has PTSD about rats in the novels. Aside from that, ghosts are far more dangerous than enemies like ghost people or the swamp people. If a stalker ends up in their way or touches the silhouettes of the damned souls, they usually join them in an endless loop of their final moments. In other words, _don't touch the blast shadows!_ I also intended to add Artyom learn about Khan's past, but I didn't want to copy the Khan level.

One of the reasons why I wanted Artyom and Cass, especially the former, is the simple fact that Artyom has enough time with the practical and he needs to deal with the philosophical aspects of his life. Why Polyanka of all places? Sometimes it shows you things that need to be seen. It's one of Metro series stronger suit.

 **Paladin Bailey** : Hopefully, it does improve from that setback.


	31. Chapter 31: Life on the Edge

The duo had spent eight hours resting in their hotel room before they made their way towards the administrative office. He had seen something similar in Riga - back then it was only busy due to the lockdown thanks to his caravan's arrival. Here, it was open as he was given permission to meet with the man in question. "Welcome to my office, what do you need?"

Artyom stepped forward and smiled at the old man. "I am here to acquire a passport for my friend - here."

"Understandable. Do you have the hundred bullets to pay for the cost?"

The stalker reached into his knapsack, only to feel to have two cartridges. "I think I'm short on bullets."

"If that's the case, you're dismissed." The old man replied.

"Maybe you can shorten the fee and I could pay for it."

It appeared he had offended the man. "You think you could barter your way out of this? Get out of my office before I let Lev do it for me."

Then Cass came to his aid. "Sir, is there a way we could pay for it without taking so long?"

"No, now-hold on." The administrator paused for a moment with his finger raised. "In fact, I do have a proposition that might be worth mentioning."

"Really?"

"Yes. Are either of you good shots?"

As soon as Artyom heard the mention of that, he began to ask. "I am, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"Young man, it related to your passport problem. You see, Venice boasts to have the best firing range in all of the Metro for live targets such as rats. However, the gangsters have made it difficult since several of them are decent shots. If what you say is true, I want you to win since I made a big fucking bet and I want those bastards to finally pay their taxes for once without scaring the taxman. Do that, you can have your passport for free."

"You would do that?" He wondered. It sounded good… too good.

"Do you want it or not?"

"I'll take it. Where is the firing range?"

"When you leave my office it's on your left."

"Okay."

When they left the administrator's office, Cass started the conversation. "We got ourselves in deep shit. Are you sure you're a good shot as you claim to be?"

"Yeah, going by a friend."

"A friend." She scoffed at the thought. "Who could that friend be?"

"Hunter, the best Polis Ranger in the Metro. He said I was a good shot when we were attacked by nosalises. I trust his word as much as I trust yours."

"Well, hopefully he's right about that."

He smiled at her skepticism. "He also said I'd make a good stalker if I left my home station and here I am."

"He's definitely not wrong in that regard."

After they arrived at the firing range, both could hear gunfire in the distance as men were cheering or demoralizing the shooter at hitting the rodents. Artyom and Cass joined the observation spot with many others while he noted several of the men were wearing those vests were not too different from the ones at the bar. Past the several surviving rodents was a timer that counted down to zero.

When it finally reached the undividable number, he could hear the shooter standing on the platform on his right swear. Then he noticed the locals end up paying their gangster neighbors a bet they owed. However, a speaker stood up on the platform where the shooter once was. "Ladies and gentlemen, particularly the visitors, do you have the skills to surpass the local sharpshooters?"

"Artyom, raise your hand." Cass whispered into his ear.

As he raised his hand, the old man spoke. "Looks like we have a volunteer. Step right up, stalker. Let's see if you are able to kill all of the rats in the allocated time allowed." The speaker stepped down before Artyom was quick to take position on the platform. "Doesn't matter what weapon it is as long as you can hit what you're seeing. We'll start off in the first phase."

He heard one of the observation spot scoff at him. "He won't hit shit!"

However, he ignored the comment as he raised his assault rifle and looked down its scope. Then he heard the gates raised before five rats stepped out of their cages and crawled across the range in the open, nowhere to go. The red numbers gave him thirty seconds to kill as he aimed his sights for his first target.

The rat stopped in its tracks, but also allowed the young man to line up his shot. With a single pull of the trigger, the rat was struck immediately before a comment from the crowd was surprised by his accuracy. "Well this is looking interesting."

He killed his second target.

"Bring out your moonshine."

The third target exploded into pink mist.

"Fucking sniper!"

The fourth rat was tossed around at the force of the bullet.

"Damn it all."

Then the fifth rat's blood was seeping across the concrete.

"My drinks to you sniper."

The speaker took the lead once again. "Excellent, I can see that one of our visitors has shown he has quite the sight and the trigger finger. Now comes the second phase, that few will ever surpass. Young man you will be given a minute, but there will be thirty targets pouring out of the cages any second now. Kill as many as you can; however, your main goal is to eliminate all of them. Understand."

Artyom nodded his head.

"Three… two… one… away!"

Without hesitation, the stalker fired his weapon. Two bodies died between the several beginning seconds he was allowed. To any other man, this would have been a challenge, but Artyom saw it differently. These rodents needed to die, it reminded him too much of his mother. Each kill was not out of desire for wealth, but for revenge. These creatures killed her for their hunger and killed people he loved.

When his weapon was empty, he was quick to discard the empty magazine and insert a new one. The barrel of his weapon was smoking with every shot fired, he was tempted to fire at full-auto, but Artyom wanted to save the ammo. Shell casings were ejected as he watched the rats feel the punishment they truly deserved. Had it not been for them, his mother would have lived and he wouldn't feel lonely within the Metro.

Little did Artyom realize, he was truly wasting bullets. He had been enraged by the memories of the endless small monsters that he had forgotten where he was.

The speaker caught his attention. "Is there a reason why you put too many bullets in the rodents?"

The young man calmed down for a moment to speak his mind. "I don't particularly like rats."

He laughed at his response. "You heard it folks, our visiting gunslinger is now a great ratslayer. Those who made their bets, pay up or recieve." Then he leaned closer to the stalker. "Since you did quite a swell job at making a show, you'll get ten percent."

Now that was a relief now that he was earning bullets and getting a free passport. As he walked out of the firing range with his companion, he heard her talk. "What happened back there? You seemed a bit off."

She didn't deserve to know. "It's nothing."

"Nothing? You seemed a bit agitated when you saw those rats. What's up with that?"

Artyom continued to ignore her, but she reached out for his hand and stopped him. "I'm rather worried knowing you did that."

He lowered his head. "I don't tell anybody about this, but my mother was eaten alive by rats."

Cass nodded her head, acknowledging his reason. "I'm sorry to know that happened."

"Let's go, I don't want to stand in the open."

When they returned to the administrator's office, the old man raised his eyebrows. "A runner came back to tell me what happened."

"Will you fulfill your part of the deal?"

"Of course, what kind of man would I be if I didn't keep my end of the bargain." Then his attention fell upon the caravaneer. "Follow me, young lady. You'll get your passport."

* * *

Anna called it a day when she walked into her motel room and jumped onto her bed. The Ranger had spent most of her day guarding Novac within the dino. It was a good job despite having a limited ammunition for her duties. She tried to buy ammo from Mr. Briscoe, but the lack of these bottle caps didn't help her case. The young woman would receive payments for her hourly work, but it wasn't enough.

She walked to her refrigerator to snatch one of those strange fizzy drinks that the locals were fond of. Sarsaparilla they called it. Her father once mentioned them before the bombs fell and they were just common as toys, but became a rarity if not an extinct drink in the Metro. Anna thought about the possibility of finding a way back, not because of the practical means of refilling the ammo of her Preved, but she was sure her father was worried about her.

When she took a seat on her bed, she finally took the opportunity to keep the bottle cap for herself before taking a sip of her drink. After being placed in the refrigerator for a long time while a Ranger such as herself worked in the sun, it as refreshing to have. To think that she could appreciate the cold when it mattered.

Yet, Anna's senses in her stomach were tingling as if there was something wrong. Her experience as a Ranger had saved her life many times and she felt that she was being watched by somebody. Of course, it could be paranoia, but one couldn't be too careful. She rose from her bed and made her way to the door while her boots were still on. Had she acted like this in the Metro, her father wouldn't shut up about pissing off the janitors.

When she arrived at the door, she looked through the small eye hole at the door, only to see the friendly sight of Jeannie May standing there. As she knocked on her door, Anna reached down for her silenced weapon out of suspicion. After all of her days in the town, the old woman was acting strangely around her as if she was hiding something. Anna didn't know why, but there was a terrible gut feeling about her.

Jeannie May Crawford knocked on the door once more, catching the Ranger's attention. "Hello, are you up?"

Still holding on to her weapon, Anna presented a composure which made sure the old woman would never see her holding gun while she opened the door. When a small crack was opened, Jeannie smiled at her. "Good evening. Is there something you need?" The Russian wondered.

"No, not at all. I just came here to tell you that I've got some people here to clean up your room if you could give them a moment." The motel manager stated. "I apologize if they take too much of your time."

It was in the middle of the night. Why would the manager send people to clean up her room around this hour? There was something wrong about this moment. Behind Jeannie, Anna recognized the infamous armor that chased her the moment she arrived in this world. They rushed after her while the old woman stood there.

"Nothing personal missy."

Then one of the Legion soldiers spoke up. "Quick, capture her" The leader whispered.

Knowing she was being under attack, the sniper backed away from the door and drew the Preved over her shoulder before pointing the large rifle at the assailants. When they swung the door open, Anna saw the stack of men presenting an opportunity to capture her… and get in her way. After she pulled the trigger, Anna felt the recoil as she watched three Legionnaires were struck in a row by her anti-tank rifle.

Before she had the opportunity to pull the bolt back, two more men stormed into the room with blades drawn. They may have caught her off-guard, but she was not going to let them take her quietly.

Anna grabbed her VSV and pulled the trigger, spraying the gunfire in their general direction. One of the Legionnaires joined the rest of his brothers while bullets bounced off the other. In this engagement, Anna saw Jeannie's head get struck by a bullet as her body fell from the second floor. That bullet had the bitch's name on it.

When her mag ran empty, she immediately switched for a new one before the Legionnaire tried to bring his large sledgehammer on her. Yet, the Ranger took two steps back allowing her footwork to delay her target and reload. Once she finished the reload, Anna continued to fire her weapon to resist her assailants. However, the man scoffed at her defiance. "You are a strong one, the Legion would benefit from your womb."

Was that their reason to capture in the middle of the night? So they could fuck her and make babies to be dead soldiers? No, she would fight tooth and nail to make sure she didn't get that point. She was a Ranger and she would make sure this asshole knew why nobody fucks with Rangers. She lowered the barrel of her silencer from his chest and let the gunfire do the work. "Up yours, fucker."

After the fighting was over, Anna saw the wounded Legionnaire lying on the ground with both of his arms between his legs. This man deserved that to happen to him. Meanwhile another figure arrived at the door. "Anna, what the hell happened here?"

She looked away from the groaning assailant to the former NCR sniper as she withdrew her weapon to the back. "Jeannie sent these assholes after me. She thought she could disguise a squad of Legion soldiers as a janitor crew. Good think I put a bullet her her head as well."

"Damn. Looks like I'll have to tell the others about what happened here tonight." Boone replied. "Now I can get to the bottom of this."

What did this American mean by this? "You knew about this?"

He nodded his head. "A long-story-short, someone kidnapped my wife. However, they knew where to go and how to get to my blindspots. I suspected that someone was part of this." He looked out the balcony to see the body below. "Now I can confirm who did it."

"Hopefully, this never happens to anyone ever again."

"That makes two of us." Then he made his way over to the wounded soldier writhing in agony. "We should head to Camp McCarran and inform the NCR what happened here?"

"Why?" She wondered.

"When the Legion sends slavers this far, they're probing for weaknesses and getting ready for an upcoming assault. Get some rest, we'll set off in the morning to bring this guy over."

* * *

Gunfire echoed throughout the night. Ever since the coalition had deployed in this other world, they were immediately under attack by these Fiends, but they were always repulsed whenever they tried to regain lost territory. However, the counter-offensive planned by the Polis Rangers was now in full effect.

The Reds had made contact with the local military authorities - the NCR. The objective was to link up with their forces and create a corridor that may allow the coalition to push the Fiends from the south into a stranglehold. If the rescued locals were anything to go by, the only other option these madmen had was going to the northwest, but it was said to contain deadly mutated creatures.

Still, it would only matter after the first phase. Thankfully, the soldiers of the Fourth Reich would get some action after seeing what they saw at Paveletskaya. It was one thing to see mutated humans, but it was another to see people create suffering for the fun of it.

Hans trekked through the ruins to the east with his fellow Panzergrenadiers watching his back. Given that he was the heavy weapons export, he was top priority in keeping the platoon in order. Having a dozen men under his command would have been an uneasy task. Yet, his experience of fighting in the Metro for Russian Reich had hardened his resolve to act as a leader.

Advancing through the night was difficult, but it was preferable than getting shot in the open. Thankfully, they had their nightvision goggles on their person, giving the platoon the tools they needed to make the journey.

One of his men was quick to talk. "It would be nice of the NCR to have some patrols to come meet us."

Hans was quick to inform his kameraden. "One of the Reds told the Rangers they're constantly under attack. Don't be quick to judge them, Diesel."

"Are you sure it's a good idea to trust a subhuman? Not a month ago we were station across the frontline."

"Yes, but you weren't there when the Legion attacked out outpost. If the reports from Polis are true, I'm sketchy with their news, these assholes are worse than the Commies."

"What has the world gone to?" Diesel wondered. "The Fourth Reich is fighting alongside subhumans to deal with invaders."

"Don't be so pessimistic." Hans replied. "Since they have more men, they're more likely to get themselves killed."

That was enough to earn a laugh from the other soldiers.

A bullet whizzed past the Nazi as he saw muzzle flashes throughout the green vision. There was a collapsed building filled with various hostiles firing from their position. "Contact, find cover!" He ordered. The heavy trooper brought his pepperbox to bear as he spun the barrels in their direction. "Fire and move, fire and move!"

When his gatling gun fired away, his goggles watched the makeshift tracers fly in their direction. Those stupid enough to remain standing were cut down. Meanwhile, several Nazi troopers returned fire on their ambushers. He could hear Diesel spouting orders for the assault team to get in close. "Get the grenade launcher, I want that building turned to rubble!"

Hans watched three grenades fly into the building as the bodies of the enemy were cut down by the explosive fragmentations. Despite the casualties inflicted, several of them took the opportunity to get out of cover and charge him. "Stupid motherfuckers, let's put them down."

To his surprise, a stream of fire came out from the left flank, catching the drug addicts in flames. The victims screamed at their burning flesh before automatic gunfire brought the agonized targets to the ground.

The Nazis pointed their weapons at the street on the left, only to find two people that would mix well upon the surface of the Dead City. "Good job Petrovich."

When the strangers revealed their nationality, Hans released his grip on his pepperbox as the barrels slowly decelerated back into a stopping position. However, he could see their faces pale at their arrival. "Who the fuck are you?!"

"Stalkers." One of the two men answered. "I'm Simon and my flamethrower pal is Petrovich. The NCR promised to pay us if we meet with you. Though, I was hoping we wouldn't meet any Nazis on this little walk of ours."

"Is there a point to this?"

"Yeah, the camp is this way. Follow us, we'll introduce you to the assholes and meet the cunts." The stalker answered.

"You don't seem so happy to meet us."

"I'm being paid to talk to Nazis. My friend and I are not exactly thrilled."

* * *

After Cass was finished, they both walked out of the administrator's office while the caravaneer was inspecting her papers. "I'll be honest, I didn't think getting my own papers would be this easy. Back in the Mojave, NCR Bureaucracy would have taken at least a week to get these papers done. Thanks for helping me out."

Artyom smiled at her gratitude and it felt good. "You're welcome. Now we just have to go to Polis."

The next response came out of another voice, by the tone alone, the man sounded like he was waiting for him. "You will."

Cass turned her head to see a group of seven men, all clad in black armor, began to approach them. "Who the hell are you?"

The leading man raised his gas mask, revealing his face. "My name is Tomilin, I'm a Ranger of the Spartan Order. Young man, I have a question."

"What would that be?" The stalker wondered.

"Almost all the Rangers know one-another. When I heard there was a Ranger in Venice, I found it odd. After all, none of my superiors nor did any of my friends tell me there was anybody deployed here. So tell me, imposter, why are you wearing our armor."

Artyom froze in his tracks. The Polis Rangers had found him. "What is going to happen?"

"Simple, you are coming with us and we're going to have one hell of a talk behind bars in Polis." Then he walked forward to meet with him face-to-face. "There is one thing worth noting. Where did you get the armor?"

"It's a long story, but Hunter gave it to me." He reached down into his pocket and pulled out the Ranger's token. "He gave his tag to me before he left to go fight the Dark Ones. His armor was his last goodbye."

"You know about Hunter?" Tomilin wondered. "How can it be? He was last seen in Exhibition. How do you know him?"

"My name is Artyom Alekseyevich Chyornyj. My stepfather was the station commander of Exhibition and Hunter was my friend, a very good friend."

"You're from Exhibition and you knew where he died?!"

"Yes."

"Ladna, you come with me. You are going to explain in Polis."

Artyom glanced over at Cass. "Can she come?"

"Why? She doesn't look important."

"She is just as important as I am if you want to learn more about this story."

* * *

Author's Note: With finals over, I can relax and have the time to complete a chapter.

* * *

 **Someguy the anon** : As someone likes eating fish, you're weird to want to eat the mutated part of the animal.

 **Paladin Bailey** : Well, that chapter was left in an uncomfortable spot given that it could have been executed better. As much as positive reviews sound nice, critical reviews are vastly superior even if they appear negative. To me, they might have some insight without being blinded by error.


	32. Chapter 32: Rise of Nations

News throughout Camp McCarran about the newcomers arrival had spread through the NCR troops like wildfire. Learning that the NCR wasn't the only one fighting the Fiends relieved the stress on the camp now that they had to worry about being pushed out from all sides. Lieutenant Gorobets thought about that foreign sniper his first impressions after rescuing several of his snipers told him what kind of men they were. They were just like them, only that they didn't carry the flag of the NCR.

His almost all of his team sat in their tent with the flaps open. As they played their cards with one-another, the officer looked past the flaps and saw the foreign troops walk into the camp. Their weapons were quite exotic to look at, but he also saw the makeshift weaponry on their persons. It almost reminded him of the communist sniper and that strange pistol he carried.

One of his men, Corporal Sterling, spoke his mind. "Those guys are quite an eye-opener. I heard that several of the Fiends already laid down their arms just get away from these guys."

The lieutenant turned his gaze upon the former Ranger. "When did that happen?"

"Last night. One of the guys said that once they arrived, they cut them off from their suppliers. So they tried to break out just to get their chems in, but they didn't even budge. If their words were true, those that did surrender to them got executed on the spot that's why they came to us."

Another was quick to comment on the news. "Damn. I never thought the Fiends would be scared of somebody."

"Indeed, Bitter-Root. I just hope those guys will be on our side."

The greenest of the team folded his hand. "I-I… w-win."

Sterling laughed. "Alright, boys. Let's hand them over."

As the sniper team "T-The Russian, h-he just l-left."

"The Red? Did he have a reason?"

"Yeah. S-Said that he had to go back t-to his own sniper t-team."

"That makes you wonder, will we be working alongside his pals?" Bitter-Root asked.

Then someone walked into the tent, surprising the others. "Looks like it. Says that they're here out of vengeance." Everyone turned their heads, only to find Betsy arrive. "Why is everyone looking at me?"

"Do you know why they're here? It's just odd to find somebody appear out of nowhere to help us out."

Betsy took her seat at the table, joining with the others. "Timur told me that the Legion attacked one of their stations and now they're out for blood. When the Fiends attacked another one of their homes, they chased them out and they're working together to protect a place called the Metro."

"Really? He told you that."

"I trust his word. After all, he saved me from getting nailed." Betsy replied.

Then the lieutenant began to ask. "Betsy, do you know anything about his group of snipers?"

"Definitely. He told me they're special forces, but specialize in sniping. That's why he was called in. He's one of the elite."

"What do you know? Looks like we got competition, let's show those Russians what the 1st Recon Battalion can do." Gorobets commented. Another entered the tent, but he recognized the man. "Timur, I thought you were going with your pals."

The foreign sniper took off the animal skin covering his face. "Da, but my superiors thought it's a good idea to spread the glory of communism into the Mojave, starting with you guys."

"That sounds like propaganda."

Timur chuckled before taking the animal hood off his head. "That is what I thought as well, but I'm not going to risk the possibility of eating a bullet from our neighborhood commissar. Although, it's better than sleeping with the Nazis - fucking bastards." Then he took his seat beside Betsy.

"What the hell is a Nazi?" Bitter-Root wondered.

"Let me inform you who the Nazis are, they are Russian nationalists who love to spout the idea that they're here to eliminate anybody who has mutations or isn't Russian. We communists have our faults, but the Nazis are the pure definition of insanity. Thankfully, the Red Line is what kept those madmen in check."

"How the hell do you guys ever get along?" Betsy wondered. "It sounds like you'd get into a shooting match with one-another."

"We would do it without hesitation, but the reason why we haven't killed one-another is the Polis Council."

"A council is what keeps you guys from murdering each other. I'm surprised."

"I wouldn't be so keen on belittling them." Timur replied. "The Polis Council consists of former government workers and agents. Hell - some of them used to be in the army and enforce their laws as Rangers."

Lieutenant Gorobets noticed one of his corporals raise his head. "Rangers? Who are those guys?"

"Former army personnel and very good stalkers."

Everyone looked at him. "What the hell is a stalker?"

"Back in the day it was an acronym for people who go into high danger zones. Scavengers, trespassers, adventurers, loners, killers, explorers, and researchers. It was meant for people who traveled to a specific place in Eastern Europe, but now we extend that definition to us."

Then Ten of Spades spoke. "I-Is there anyone l-like that?"

The sniper nodded his head. "I knew one man. The poor guy had a knack for getting the attention of loan sharks, but he had experience that puts me to shame."

"Too bad for him." Bitter-Root said. "Once we deal with these Fiends and we get an opportunity to go on leave, I'll show you how to have a good time in New Vegas. That's if you have the caps of course."

"Sad to say, I'm broke." Timur replied.

"Broke? Don't you get paid?"

"Back in the Metro, our currency is five-point-four-five military grade ammo. I doubt a woman will enjoy her payment in bullets."

That was enough to grab Betsy's attention. "You get paid in bullets? Why the hell do you use bullets as money."

"Simple, paper money lost its value after the war. Bullets and cartridges became our currency because we believe it has value, but the reason is very grim. After all, it takes a single bullet to take a life."

"Shit, now it makes you wonder how you people survived there in the first place."

Timur pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket and slipped one out of place. "It's not entirely bad. We've survived the war for twenty years, I think we can handle using MGRs for a time." It was this moment, the Red Line sniper noticed all eyes were staring at him. "What? Does my breath smell like mushrooms?"

Lieutenant Gorobets knew the significance of pre-war knowledge, but to meet a man who lived before the war was a different matter entirely. Here - his fellow snipers found themselves speechless, but he had to break the silence. "I think you might be crazy. It has been over two hundred years since the bombs fell."

"No, it was twenty. I'm sure of it." He insisted. "I think you might have gotten that wrong about the time. What year is it?"

"It's 2281 as of right now."

He scratched his head. "I knew there was something off about that anomaly."

"Anomaly? W-What's that?" Ten of Spades wondered.

"An anomaly is some strange phenomenon that occurs throughout the Metro. It could be a ball of energy or an hallucination, but it's a category for weird shit that occurs without any detailed explanation. I think the anomaly that brought my comrades and I into this place needs some detailed study by the Polis scientists. It's very odd because the year for the Moscow Metro System is 2033, twenty years after our fathers bombed the earth with nuclear fire."

Everyone remained silent for a moment. The revelation of such information was shocking and it needed some time to be taken in.

* * *

Colonel James Hsu stood tall alongside his officers as they saw their new allies against the Fiends. When they entered the terminal building, they saw three men walking together. Two men appeared to be officers based on their peaked officer caps, but one wore shades of red with a lightly brown uniform as the other wore a dark blue uniform wrapped by sheets of armor. Yet, they were drastically different from the one who led them.

The stranger's face was encased by a gas mask while his visor was raised over the eye slits. They met face-to-face, the leader of the two officers took off his heavily armored helmet and slipped his gas mask off. Unlike the others, his face carried scars of a beast that tried to kill him, but his demeanor almost reminded James of a woman who was deployed elsewhere in the Mojave.

James presented his hand and smiled at the person standing before him. "I am Colonel Hsu, I'm in charge of the operations here at Camp McCarran and the Mojave. It's good to meet you." Then he glanced to the officers beside him. "This is Lieutenant Boyd and Major Dhatri."

The scarred man nodded his head. "Very good, it would be a waste of manpower for Polis to keep the Communists and the Nazis from murdering one-another." Then he stepped forward to shake his hand. "I am Colonel Miller - Spartan Commander of the Polis Rangers. The two officers beside me is Oberscharführer Chernov of the Fourth Reich and Kapitán Zakhaev of the Red Line. I believe we are here to deal with our Fiend problem, yes?"

"Definitely." He answered. "The Fiends have remained a thorn in our side ever since we've set up shop in this location. However, there is a problem we're facing."

"What would that be?" Colonel Miller wondered.

"The NCR has been able to repel their attacks, but our patrols have made it difficult to contain the Fiends and perhaps locate their base. Once we find the base, we'll be able to break whatever organization they have from New Vegas."

"Once that's over with, we'll properly get into diplomacy."

James nodded his head. "Yes. I'm rather thankful for your arrival in containing the Fiends. The nearby city won't have to worry about them for a long time. However, you must understand that despite their people being pumped up on drugs, they're not as equipped as our troops. I was hoping your troops are not on that level."

One of the officers with the strange rank spoke up. "Nyet, the Reds and I can agree that despite our makeshift weapons we are very armed with to the tooth. Well, my men are far more armored than the conscripts of the Reds."

"Good. I think it's worth mentioning that three days from now, the NCR will be attacking the Fiends from our lines. Is that enough for your troops to prepare and join us in the attack?"

Zakhaev spoke up. "It should be enough. The Red Line has enough troops to form an encirclement around these bastards. We should be also capable of probing their positions for weak points if that helps."

"It does. Thank you."

"No problem, tovarich."

Then Major Dhatri spoke. "Before we depart, one of your snipers saved several of mine from being killed and another from getting raped. While we prepare for the attack against the Fiends, I was hoping our respective sniper teams could work together in picking off whatever leadership they have at the moment."

"Oh, you're talking about Timur. I'm sure he put quite an impression on your people. He has a tendency to do that."

"How so?"

Chernov glanced over at the communist. "Fucker took out an entire outpost all by himself."

Colonel Hsu was surprised by his outburst. "He's that good? I'm sure Lieutenant Gorobets would appreciate his company."

Then Colonel Miller refocused the conversation back on him. "Colonel Hsu, do you know anything about a group of people called Caesar's Legion?"

The Legion? What did these people want with them? He had to be careful in divulging information to this man despite his first impressions on assisting Camp McCarran survive against the Fiends. "Yes, why do you ask?"

"We have several prisoners among us and I was hoping you would help us along with that matter. As much as I would like to hand them over to the Nazis, we need information and cooperating with the NCR might further our efforts in protecting our home."

"With all due respect, this is too much to discuss for the first day and your arrival is surprising and I'm not keen on trusting you."

Miller smiled. "I knew you would say that, but if you don't trust my word I think you should trust her word." The foreign commanding officers stepped aside as a single woman came forward to greet the NCR officers.

"Who is she?"

The woman smiled, but her Mojave accent was distinct to catch. "Colonel Hsu, I'm Ranger Stella. I was one of the survivors at Ranger station Charlie before the Legion slavers accidentally brought me over to the Moscow Metro."

Ranger station Charlie was attacked? Why didn't the news of the station reach him? "A survivor? No wonder why we didn't receive any additional reports from that region." Then the colonel glanced over to Miller. "Alright, I can trust your word. We will help you learn about the Legion, but I do have a request."

"What would that be?" The Russian asked. "I hope it isn't too drastic."

"We have a Legion Centurion in one of our cells and he won't budge. Could you help Lieutenant Boyd… extract the information out of him?"

"That seems like an odd request."

The woman was quick to reply. "We want to extract the information out of him, but the ethical laws about prisoners of war from previous administrations is getting in the way. Your assistance would help greatly given that none of you are from the NCR."

He nodded his head at her reasoning. "Letting the foreigners do the dirty work - eh? It shouldn't be too hard, we have some methods of interrogation that might work."

* * *

Information was key, but this was a new development. Was this a new asset or a liability to his control in New Vegas? Doesn't matter, these new people who have formed an encirclement south of Fiend territory have presented a new opportunity. Odd as it was, he'll have to be very mindful in how he decided to handle the newcomers.

Yet, he must remain cautious given what he was facing. Their ideologies are ancient, but familiar to him. Whatever reasons they had to be in the Mojave, it would change the dynamic between the various powers that intend to control New Vegas - his city. Their weapons were crude, but their design was showed that they had the gift of ingenuity.

With these strangers in the way, the removal of the Legion could be hasten if they allied themselves with the NCR. Knowing the young Californian Republic, they were just another opportunity to annex them into the fold if their history was anything to go by. However, he would have to wait and see, like General Oliver, to learn about their capabilities.

If they did oppose him as well, he could crush them with his securitrons, but hopefully they would be… cooperative. Yet, he needed to find a way to limit those ideologies from opposing him or undermining his rule. Fascists had their uses, but the communists needed to be put down. Their 'revolutionary' ideals would come to clash against his grand design for humanity's future. What would those short-sighted fools know about the future given that they were the ones who destroyed the world he once knew.

Nonetheless, the House will always win.

* * *

Author's Note: I thought it would be fun to have a chapter dedicated to the arrival of the Russians in the Mojave. It's also refreshing to type something event-changing for the two universes.

* * *

 **Someguy the anon** : They are not chicken legs. More like lizard legs given that it's a radioactive mutation and not a normal one.

 **Guest** : It's going to be awhile until we reach that point.


	33. Chapter 33: Blazing Trail

Colonel Miller followed Lieutenant Boyd into the interrogation room. The Russians had spent the day digging in alongside their newfound allies, but the colonel needed to proceed in eliminating the Legion threat from the Metro.

As they walked up the steps of an escalator that no longer functioned it's role, Boyd spoke. "I heard one of your Rangers helped one of the troopers out in getting her husband back. Is that true?"

Ah yes, that incident. Uhlman was helping a widow who lost her husband to the Fiends. Although the desire to berate the Ranger was present, Miller chose to be lenient on him. The mere mention of the soldier having the possibility to put a bullet in her own skull was convincing enough and it would be bad for morale - going by Colonel Hsu's situation, most of the troops were already fighting with poor morale in the first place. At the very least, it would be an improvement to their allies stationed here. "Yes. As much as Uhlman has a knack for terrible jokes, he's a good Ranger. He's my go-to man whenever I need something done."

"Good, the last thing the NCR needs is a trooper's brains all over the floor of her quarters. It's bad enough that the Fiends have a tendency to rape, pillage, and plunder while on chems. Which begs me to question, why do you hold a grudge against them?"

"There is a station called Paveletskaya, it has earned the respect of most of the Metro since the locals have a long history of fighting off mutants in droves. To some degree, most of the factions tend to support their stance on helping them out given that they won't be the ones to deal with the mutant packs." Miller explained. "When all of us arrived there at the mere rumor of the Legion being present, the Fiends were already trashing the place and killing its defenders. In other words, we were very angry."

"Looks like their days are numbered." Once they reached the top of the escalators, the lieutenant walked over to a room on her right. "Here's our prisoner. Your interrogators seem to be doing a good job at… convincing Silus to speak. The information we've been getting has been accurate and enough to counter several slaving patrols south of New Vegas."

"Good, but we also have a problem."

"What would that be?"

"This was the Reds' only batch of truth serums, it's going to be awhile before we get another from Revolution." The colonel answered.

"Damn, it felt too easy."

"I know the feeling. So what would you also need out of him?" When they entered the room, Miller saw a Legion soldier without his armor on. Instead, he had nothing, but jeans and a simple blouse to cover himself with.

"Silus is a Centurion, he's one of the high-ranking officers of the Legion." Boyd explained. "He also has the privilege to know about Caesar's health and something about infiltrators in our ranks. Since the NCR can't touch him, you might have to beat the information out of him. However, try not to kill him. We still need him alive."

"I completely understand, but I've had several interrogations of my own to know how to handle a guy like this."

"You're going to personally interrogate him."

Miller nodded his head. "Of course, I know a few tricks up my sleeve that might help."

"Alright, keep me entertained. I want that smug face of his to be gone by the time you are finished."

He chuckled. "Don't worry, this is normal procedure."

The Spartan Commander unlocked the doors before they closed behind his back. Two chairs and a table were present. The two were placed across one-another with a table kept between them. Just like how they done… discussions like this in Polis.

When he took his seat, he heard the Legion Centurion talk. "What kind of excrement did they find you, worm?"

Once Colonel Miller sat down, he stared at the man. "The kind that finishes off a corpse like yours."

"Oh? You think, I should be afraid of you. Pathetic. The Legion has many more soldiers like me who would put your kind to shame."

"Tell me, young man. How do men like you achieve a rank of Centurion, because all I see is an imitator?"

"How dare you insult the Legion?! We earn our ranks by spilling the blood of our enemies to in Caesar's name, despite of his 'headaches' that affect his strategic ability. Our numbers are numerous, your soldiers are weak even when we are not fighting. There is nothing fake about our quest to bring the banner of the bull across all the lands."

All the colonel could do was scoff. "Yet, here you are. Doing nothing, but wasting your time becoming a prisoner. For what? Domination? All I see is a man who clearly lost his way and wants to believe he's a true believer of his cause."

"That is because I am. I kill in the name of Caesar and I currently sacrifice my body to serve the Legion. Even when I'm here, you spend your time trying to pry out the information out of my mind, but you will not have it. When the Legion puts their feet on your backs, you will find true salvation."

"One man is a tragedy, but a million is a statistic."

"What wisdom comes from such words?"

"They come from a man who would make your Caesar look like a child." He answered. "You are simply one single Centurion. However, your… lord has many others who could replace your rank. What does he care about you? Perhaps the only thing he should think about is whether you are a coward to give information to us."

"I am no coward. Caesar will come for me!" Silus replied. "After all, he ordered me to come here and distract your commanders while others lurk within these walls to destroy your precious link to the city of corruption and sow disruption between your eyes. As a Centurion, I will not falter in my course."

This man must have loved boasting when there were others around. Too bad he didn't have the brain to shut his mouth. "I'm afraid to say that a centurions have more brawn than brains, really. After all, you divulged enough information to us that I think your Caesar might kill you for our previous… appointments."

"No, my lord will never abandoned me. Caesar will come and I will walk free while the lieutenant becomes my slave and your skull as my goblet. We will rise to surpass your armies and bring your cities to ruin, mark my words.

Colonel Miller rose from his seat, placed his hand on the table and leaned forward. "That is why I call you imitators. As a descendant of the third Rome, you are a charlatan who cannot think forward beyond the man who dressed you up. Thank you for this conversation." Then he turned away from the Legion officer and returned back into the observation room.

After the doors closed behind him, Lieutenant Boyd was waiting for him with her arms crossed. "I don't see how you got any information out of him."

"Tell me Boyd, how do you get eyes on the enemy?"

"By sending scouts or a… patrol." Her tone changed. "So you're saying that he's playing around with words?"

"Da. He mentioned about a link to a city? Do you know anything about that? Is it a supply route or what?"

Then he noticed her face turn ghostly white. "It's the train from here to New Vegas. Shit, they got an infiltrator to sabotage the train."

"Don't worry about that, I'll give one of my men the heads up." Then he reached to his hand-held radio and spoke. "Uhlman, come in?"

An enthusiastic and happy voice was heard on the other side. "Secret Agent Uhlman, over!"

"Cut the chatter, there's a bomb in the terminal building attached to a train. I'm going to need you to cut the wires."

"Understood, but the guards won't let anybody near it."

"Lieutenant Boyd, could you help with this problem?" Miller wondered.

"I can, I'll inform the guards to let him through." Then she handed him a coded card. "Here, you'll need this."

"For what?"

"If the Legion intends on hampering our patrols, then someone must have had access to the patrol manifest. Most troopers go there to spend some love-making there, but if someone unauthorized is present bring him alive if you can."

"Don't worry, I'll send several of some Reds to keep me company."

* * *

Ever since Tomilin and his Rangers found him and Cass, they paddled through the sunken tunnels to avoid the various obstructions and the local fauna from getting too close with the boats. With each swipe, the convoy of three boats continued to make its way through the waterways just to find land and get to Polis from there. Artyom looked around to see the shrimps take notice of their presence, but remain in their places.

Then he heard Tomilin speak. "Be careful men. We don't want to get eaten by our own fish. Boris, Stephan, keep your lights charged. We don't want to be caught in the fucking dark."

One of the Rangers was shaking with his shotgun attached with a bayonet. However, another was quick to calm him down. "Romanov, stop fucking shaking. You'll tip us over."

"Sorry, Red." The Ranger was quick to reply. "I'm not fond of these fuckers."

"Yes, we get it. You're afraid of shrimps."

"We could get attacked at any time." Romanov thought. "I just want to be ready when it happens."

"Hell, I might toss you over for good measure."

While the convoy of boats continued to move throughout the 'seas', Artyom and Cass were accompanied by two Rangers. Both of whom were watching their backs with their weapons as they paddled the boat forward. One of them smiled at Artyom and gave his hand out to him. "My name is Petr, my friend watching your backs is Grisha."

Given the grim scenery around them, perhaps a conversation might help keep the idea of getting eaten by sea monsters out of his mind. "I'm Artyom and my friend is Cass."

"So, how long have you two have been together?" Petr wondered.

"Well-" The stalker never had the opportunity to finish.

The caravaneer spoke. "We've been traveling together for awhile."

The Ranger seemed confused. "Really? I'm surprised for both of you. Most stalker couples I've met have settled down. Why haven't both of you tried?"

"Don't you remember, I'm from Exhibition station." Artyom answered. "It's rather hard given that I have nowhere else to go."

Petr shook his head. "You're quite the pessimist. I understand that you lost your home, but maybe there are other stations out there."

"I want to introduce her to my step-father."

Cass was quick to comment. "Hold up, you didn't lay with me because you wanted your step-father's thoughts on me? What kind of logic is that?"

"It would be funny, really. I left my home station and bring home a girl. He'd have a laugh at that."

"You Russians are weird."

Grisha laughed. "Given that this is the Metro, what better way to impress a father in such a way. It means you have your priorities straight."

"Priorities? How the fuck is this considered priorities?"

"That means you're smart enough to live a happy life in this shithole of a home. Yes, being a stalker has its economic freedom, but there are plenty of dangers going along with it."

Then Tomilin spoke. "Everyone, shut the fuck up!" Silence came as they heard a loud rush of water slipping through an exit. "Go in the other direction, quick!"

Soon the paddles were beginning to splash in the other direction. Artyom was quick to do the same as the convoy of boats tried to drive elsewhere. Romanov was quick to notice something. "Shit, we can't get out of this! The waves are pushing against us."

"Keep trying. We must not get caught in the waterfall."

Artyom looked away from the waterfall and turned his attention on their way back; however, he noticed something in the water that caught his attention. He turned on his flashlight as he saw the large creature underneath his boat. "Sir, something's under us."

"What is it?"

"I don't know, but it looks bigger than the regular shrimps."

Romanov was quick to identify it. "It's a male. Don't piss it off."

The creature revealed it's full might as it knocked the boat Artyom was in. "It's trying to get us out of the boat."

"Grisha, Petr, open fire!" Soon the two Rangers in the same boat were quick to open fire in the water, but the shrimp shook the boat again. This time, knocking the stalker off as he held onto the edge. However, his weight turned the boat as everyone held on. Yet, the force of the water began to make their way towards the other boats.

Tomilin shouted to the top of his lungs. "Look out!" Then the convoy began to smash into one-another as the group accelerated out of the drain and into the world below.

Artyom looked below as he saw a strange pulse in reality. The very kind that brought him back into the Metro. "Anomaly, look out!"

* * *

In the quiet tunnels, Jed Masterson kept inventory of his goods while he was angry at what had happened. Apparently, Ricky's Pip-Boy stopped working on their journey and now they were lost. "You know, I knew you were trouble kid. Look at us, we're stuck in these passes."

His eyes turned on the young man in the vault suit, who was trying to get his piece of machinery to work. "Look man, I can fix this. Give me a little time and we'll be going."

"Time is money, Ricky. We're all going to die because of you."

Then one of the caravan guards walked up to him. "Don't be so hard on the kid. After all, he did land on a rock."

"Stella, don't give the boy the excuse." Jed replied. "I expected to have a professional not… this."

The caravan became tense as they heard gunfire in the distance. The leader of the group looked behind his back to hear voices cry out. "Put that fucker down!"

"Fall back, fall back!"

"Get through the cracks."

However, he couldn't put his finger on the accent since he had never heard of them before. Then he saw flashlights appear from the right side of the tunnel as one of them slipped through. "It can't get us through here. Come on." More slipped out of the small cracks in the tunnel that the caravan had bypassed after finding out it was a dead end. After the final person walked out of the crack, they all turned their lights on them as they walked forward. "Hey, you don't mind any company do you?"

When they revealed themselves Jed didn't know what to say. They wore black armor and carried trench coats on their person. He could mistake them for NCR Rangers, but their helmets were very different than what he had seen on the propaganda posters. These people were strange; however, he didn't want to offend these people given that they had more men than he had guards. "Sure, but you are stuck with us." Then he glanced his gaze upon Ricky and shook his head. "This kid had a map on his Pip-Boy, but apparently it stopped working."

"What the hell is a Pip-Boy?" One of the strange men asked.

Then Stella was immediately surprised by the question. "Have you been living under a rock?"

"Nyet, but I've been living in a Metro train system. Does that count?"

"Ha, ha, very funny."

One of the people stepped forward and revealed her arm. "Jed? Jed Masterson, is that you?"

It had been a long time since he had heard her voice, but he recognized her. "Cass? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I was accompanying one of these men. We were ambushed by some monster, but we got out alive. You're a sight for sore eyes."

"Really? Why is that?"

"Ever heard of the Sierra Madre?"

"Yeah, it's one of those legends that isn't true."

"I beg to differ." She walked into the light and began to show off her armor over to the caravaneer. "Turns out it's real." Then he saw the words 'Sierra Madre Security' written on her back.

"Damn, you got that legendary treasure on you?"

Cass shook her head. "Artyom and I got split up after were chased by a deathclaw. We met these fellas and ended up here."

"Well, it looks like you're stuck here with me."

Ricky spoke up. "Like I said, give me a moment and I'll fix it."

However, Cass displayed something Jed was longing for, hope. "Don't wait for him, Jed, I got mine."

"You got a Pip-Boy as well?" Jed wondered.

"Yeah, my friend saved my ass and handed some of his stuff to me. It works."

"I'll be damned, looks like we're saved."

"Before we go, I would like to introduce you to the leader of this group of men. I think you know it's worth the company."

Jed stared at one of the men as he came forward and unmasked his face. Then he brought his hand out. When they shook hands he introduced himself. "My name is Ranger Tomilin, I'm the head of these Rangers. So do you know where we're going?"

"I could send you New Vegas," Jed began. "However, we're going to have to take the long way back. We can't go back the way we came from. If you follow me and let me get some trade in Zion I might be able to get you and the others back to civilization."

"Spasibo, I appreciate the help, but I still don't understand where we are?"

"Don't worry, once we get out of this maze we'll figure things out."

When the caravan proceeded to move, Jed noticed Ricky have the opportunity to get close to Cass. Oh how he would pay to see her punch him. "Hey lady, how about we share information. Maybe I could show you my third glowing nut and you'll see what you're using."

The caravaneer shook her head and grabbed one of the strange men; however, he was younger than the others. "Sorry, I'm taken."

"I doubt this fucko knows how to treat a lady right."

Cass's partner spoke his mind. "My friend has a four-barrelled shotgun and you're giving her one hell of a reason to use it."

"What a fucking bitch?! I was trying to be friendly." Ricky replied.

Then one of the strange men commented. "If you don't want to lose your balls boy, don't get friendly with her."

Jed shook his head as he led the caravan. It was going to be a long journey going by several weeks.

* * *

Author's Note: Yep, Artyomand the others have found themselves heading off to Zion.

* * *

 **Someguy the anon** : As a fish person, I disagree.

 **Paladin Bailey** : Thanks for the review.


	34. Chapter 34: Operation Sandstorm

Timur sat alone at an empty water tower as he waited for the dawn to come. By sunrise, the coalition would commence their attack against the Fiends and eliminate their ranks by the end of the day… or so the commanders say. He knew better than to believe they were right, especially the commissars. His time in the Red Army had taught him not to accept the propaganda as fact until there is something there that works, but he hated seeing the young men join into the ranks to escape their family situation. He wished he could show them what they were up against and deter them from leaving their families. Yet, the government would also condemn him for defying their laws.

The lonely sniper heard the clanging of metal behind him. Somebody was coming up the ladder. He let his sniper rifle rest on the metal flooring as he grabbed his automatic pistol and focused his full attention on the top of the ladder. To his surprise, he recognized somebody from the NCR. "There you are, I was looking all over for you." She said before he relaxed and rested his back against the water container. "You're a little bit early."

Then the Russian holstered his weapon and smiled. "You're lucky I recognized you. Could have blown your head off." He said.

"The NCR wouldn't like it. That's for sure." Soon, she laid down on the metal floor and rested her sniper rifle beside his. "What are you doing here all by yourself?"

"Getting into position for the operation." He answered.

"That is quite some dedication."

Timur chuckled at the thought. "You have no idea. Besides, somebody needs to see the details of what we're up against." Then he pointed his finger towards the direction of Fiend territory. "I think I was able to locate where the Fiends are coming from."

Betsy grabbed her sniper rifle and aimed down her scope. "Really? I don't see it."

"That's the point." He replied. "If you see the tall ruins more to the right, I'm noticing that there is a large influx of patrols going in and out. That usually means they're switching out the tired patrols for the well-rested."

"Damn, why didn't the NCR think of that? It looks so easy from this viewpoint." Betsy commented. "I just wonder if they'll ever have the operation will succeed. The Fiends are not people that should be easy pickings."

"Problem with drug-fuelled soldiers is that they lack the sense of aim. By the time the main force pushes into that compound behind the wall, they'll be in the thick of it."

"Should we move in to provide sniper support?"

"Yes, but after the sentries and outer patrols are put down."

Timur's radio spoke to life as Betsy turned her head towards the sniper. "Glazkov, are you in position?" The man asked.

Then he grabbed his radio and pressed a button. "Affirmative. I have possible eyes on what appears to be a Fiend base."

"Understood. The operation has commenced, but there is a sizeable force advancing towards the base camp. Thin them out, would you."

"Loud and clear." The Communist sniper replied. "Betsy, get your rifle. Hostiles are advancing towards our outpost."

The NCR sniper grabbed her sniper rifle and pointed her barrel in the direction of Fiend territory. "Where are they located?" She asked.

Timur looked down his scope and hoped he could see movement this early in the morning. As the sun was coming up, he could feel the sunlight pressing against the back of his head as he noticed a large pack of people in rags moving towards the southwest. "On our left, you'll see them."

"Damn, that's a lot of them." Betsy commented before looking down her scope. "I see them. Should we open fire?"

The Russian inspected his silenced semi-automatic sniper rifle before adjusting for the range. "Now." He said. Then he heard her rifle's crackling cry in the morning as one of many targets slumped to the ground. Through his scope, he intended to do the same, but he noticed a man wearing an animal skull spouting orders while waving his golf club in the air. When he lined up his sights on the man, Timur held his breath for a moment while dozens of Fiends were running past his target. After the pull of his trigger, he waited for his bullet to make its way on the soon-to-be dead man.

The bullet struck his bare chest before he dropped to his knees and tried to stop the bleeding. Then he looked towards the direction where the sniper fired from. Whoever this person was, he intended to point out his position towards the others.

Another pull of the trigger would make sure that would never happen.

* * *

Bourbon opened his eyes as he heard the shouting within the camp. Soldiers were scrambling out of their tents and small makeshift huts just to grab their weapons as they moved up to the northeast perimeter of the camp. Whatever was going on, he would do the same and be safe than sorry as he loaded his Shambler.

When he stepped out of his tent, Bourbon saw Uhlman stirring up the coalition to life. "Wake up people! Enemies to the northeast!" As the Ranger took notice of the stalker, he walked up to him and yelled. "Alright stalker, get moving!"

He did as he was told as the majority of soldiers took their positions in a trenchline directed towards the Fiend territory. Then he jumped down and joined his fellow man before noticing Nazis and Communists resting their weapons on the sand.

To his surprise, he heard a Red officer shouting propaganda behind his back. "We must hold this position. Reinforcements are coming, we just need to hold."

Then another soldier spoke. "Hold the line, comrades. Do not let them pass!"

With the rising sun coming up, Bourbon could see figures coming over the horizon.

"Steady, wait till they get close!"

"For the Metro, get ready."

The stalker looked out from his trench and saw the figures running towards them as they screamed and waved their melee weapons violently. When he saw their faces, they were covered in dirt with their faces expressing evil smiles before they charged towards their lines.

"Open fire!" The officer screamed to the top of his lungs.

In one single moment, Bourbon watched so much firepower unleashed from a single trenchline. Assault rifles, machine guns, shotguns, all of these weapons were faced in a single direction as the enemy disregarded their safety to close in for the kill. Yet, they did take the opportunity to return fire whether it be bullets or energy weapons.

Lasers and strange green projectiles flew over their heads, those unlikely enough to get in the way were burned for life.

"Do not retreat, show them no mercy!"

Bourbon's finger rested upon the trigger as he saw a Fiend carrying a strange weapon in his hands. His curiosity was sated when he saw fire spewing out of its nozzle. "Flamethrower!" He shouted before his shotgun blasted away and riddled the man with Dragonbreath shells. The target who wielded the flamethrower was now on fired before machine gun fire cut him down.

A battle cry roared between the Fiends and the Metro coalition as the distance between the two sides was slowly getting smaller by the second. Despite the losses of those unlucky enough to be struck by a stray bullet or fragmentation were nothing compared to the droves of bodies that were lying underneath the sun. The fighting continued with Fiends running ahead of their fellows and descending upon those who fought in the trenches.

Bourbon slipped more shotgun shells into the clamps while seeing a Fiend sprint towards him with a machete in hand. "Fuck!" He said to himself before trying to bring his weapon to bear. Yet, the person jumped down into the trench and landed on him.

The man leaned forward and tossed his shotgun aside. "Do want to see the sight of your own blood?" He asked. Then he was about to lunge his machete into his chest, but a Nazi drew his pistol and fired into his head.

As the blood soaked into the trench, the stalker grabbed his shotgun and spent one shell into his foe before rejoining the fight. Explosions erupted throughout the area in front of him, but he could recognize the makeshift pipe-bombs flying at the enemy. Upon contact, they would explode, others were tossed out with their fuzes burning before detonation.

A Red on his right looked around and started talking. "Keep firing, don't hold back!"

Another spoke. "Look, they're running!"

Bourbon focused his full attention on the Fiends running away as they shot back at the defenders of the base camp.

"Stay vigilant, they might attack again."

* * *

Being a prisoner of the Fiends was a terrifying prospect, especially for Rachael. The possibility of some chem-fuelled addict finding her attractive to be raped, it became an uncomfortable thought. Then she looked to her fellow prisoners, a ghoul and a man. They probably had better chances of surviving once they escape. At best, the Fiends might try to recruit them by taking some drugs.

At the very least, the Fiends weren't known to guard their prisoners given that they wanted to feel good with the chems. She was sitting back in her chair and hoped this nightmare could end, but life was really a bitch sometimes. The NCR didn't have the men to take on the Fiends much less find their base and destroy it. One way or another, she was a dead woman.

Her contemplation of a possible breakout or rescue was answered when she heard the ground shake and awake her cellmates. The lights flickered on and off, but an explosion could be heard echoing throughout the entire vault. Whoever had the guts to bomb Vault 3's doors was like knocking on a Cazador's nest.

The three prisoners looked outside and saw Fiends sprinting past them with their weapons in hand. Something had grabbed their attention if they were arming themselves to defend this place. Nonetheless, she hoped the assholes would die for being the insane addicts they were.

* * *

Mags and her squad stacked up against the remains of a stone wall. Her squad was never supposed to get some action, but the arrival of these foreigners changed everything. The NCR had allies and was taking full advantage of it. This coalition of various tribes had been sought out in order to help them deal with the Fiend issue and the results showed. The foreigners had drawn most of the Fiend forces to attack their base camp while giving their strong units and the sum of NCR forces at Camp McCarran to break them at their weakest.

Right now, she saw Vault 3's door blown open as the foreign troops stormed into the underground facility. From what she heard from her sergeant, these people had experience in tunnel warfare. One of these Russians ran out, only to be met by a lieutenant. "The main entrance is clear. Get your troops in there fast. We don't want them to dig in."

The NCR lieutenant nodded his head as he turned his gaze towards her. "Mags, your squad is up." She was the first to walk into the vault filled with Fiends while she heard the rest of her squadmates make their way inside.

Upon entering the room, they were met with the horrific carnage that was littered everywhere. Many Fiends bodies were on the ground, but she saw the casualties of the Russians and saw them separated from the defenders. A masked man returned from the fighting in the hallways as he took notice of their arrival. "I need you four to come with me."

"Understood." Mags replied as she slipped the safety off her service rifle. While she followed the stranger deeper into the vault, the woman looked at the passing rooms to see Fiends lying on the ground or on their knees with their hands tied. "What do you need us for?"

"My friend, Hans, needs a squad to watch his back. His pepperbox carries plenty of firepower, but reloading takes a long time." The man answered.

As they were about to enter into a hallway, they were stopped by an exchange of gunfire flying past them. On their left, a Russian was pushing forward while carrying a reinforced shield to block the bullets coming at him. Yet, he was merely drawing their fire before Mags was surprised to see this tall, but heavy man carrying what appeared to be a handmade gatling gun. The man stole a quick glance from her group before stepping out from behind the shield soldier and firing it away at the Fiends fighting back. "Diesel, tell those soldiers to suppress the fuckers while we advance."

Diesel grabbed his hanging assault rifle and looked back at the others. "You heard him, cover fire." Then he peeked out from behind the corner of the hallway and fired bursts at a time before Mags crouched below him and fired away.

She looked at the three other men in her squad and started spouting orders. "You three, go on the other side and shoot them from there." Then she returned to the fighting and saw four Fiends using tables for cover.

One of them stupidly rose out of safety, but her gunfire struck her in the chest before she landed on her back.

Hans spun his gatling gun and unleashed a hailstorm throughout the hallway. However, the Fiends were stupid enough to try and kill him before they were riddled with bullets. After they died, Mags and everyone else continued deep into the facility. On their right, they saw a window looking into another room. How were the Fiends capable of having prisoners?

. . .

Motor-Runner was pissed. The Fiends under his command told him the NCR managed to get inside of Vault 3 with some additional help. He knew that his people were somewhat stupid with the drugs they get their hands on, but this was a whole new level. Apparently, the NCR managed to get some allies that just appeared in the Southwest. "Damn it all." He said to himself. He just sent most of the Fiends there to kill those bitches just so the Great Khans could get their chems in. Now Red Rock Canyon was cut off from the Vault.

His bodyguards had taken up defensive positions around a single door with their energy weapons at the ready. Now he had to lead the charge while one of the girls looked up at him. "Fucking NCR! The bitches cut us off from the rest of the Vault." She said.

"Don't sweat it." Daniel replied. "By the time we open this door, they'll be all dead. Now open it."

One of his men put away his pool cue and unlocked the door while the leader of the Fiends brought out his chainsaw and sparked it to life. The rusty blades roared while he became the first to step out the door.

Daniel's eyes saw a bright light shining at him from the other side of the hallway. A voice with a strange accent spoke to him. "Lay down your weapons and surrender peacefully."

"Fuck you!" He cried before sprinting into the blinding light alongside his bodyguards.

"Open fire!"

Past the white light, he saw dozens of NCR troopers waiting for him, but they were not the only ones there. Strangers stood beside them, wearing strange armor while their faces were covered in gas masks. Out from his lungs came a loud battle cry as he raised his chainsaw above his head. "Eat this!" His eyes say blinding flashes before his very eyes and felt his entire strength ripped away in every literal sense.

Daniel slumped to the ground with his chainsaw out of his hand while he saw tracers flying over him and into the bodyguards that followed him. No one was spared in this fight while the leader of the Fiends found himself bleeding to death. His head looked back at the bodies and saw the remains of his fellow drug-addicts lying on the floor in the pool of their own blood. Some of them didn't even look recognizable.

This was the end. An end to an entire era of striking fear into anyone they came across. Even the fucking NCR had problems with them. It was only until the arrival of these foreigners did their time end.

He rose from the ground as he looked at his own wounds, seeing the Vault's hallways now marked with their deaths. Then the leader of the Fiends looked up at the muzzles of his opponents and saw one of the strangers take off his gas masks. "Come at me fuckers." He tried to say.

The foreigner shook his head in a disappointing expressions. "We warned you." Then he glanced to his fellow soldiers. "Put this asshole down."

The last Daniel would see was the barrel of a Dushka with a bullet with his name on it.

* * *

The operation was going well. The coordination between the Reds and the Nazis were tolerable, but it was better than having them shoot one another. However, he noted that the NCR troops had to have superior numbers to actually get anything done while he waited within an abandoned shop.

Uhlman had reported back that the Fiends took heavy casualties from attacking their base camp and were returning back to Vault 3 to recover. The colonel would make sure that would never happen.

An entire street was open for the enemy and it would become their grave. Miller cocked his assault rifle as he heard the survivors of the Fiend forces running back to their base. The Rangers, the Nazis, the Reds, even the NCR had spent some token troops and a group of their Rangers to join them. This was going to be their moment.

Colonel Miller had told their NCR allies that they were going to attack when the Rangers opened fire, specifically him. Yet, he wanted to wait and see whether the bulk of their forces lived so if they did come in with the retreat they would end the threat right here and now.

There was no wounded among them, they probably left them behind in the fighting. Despite their losses, they made it up by pulling out their drugs and injecting them into their bodies. This was the perfect opportunity to attack. Drugs had their strengths, but their judgement would be clouded and an ambush would definitely confuse them.

He reached for his short-ranged radio and spoke. "Now." Not a moment later, Miller rose up from behind the broken window and looked down at the Fiends. His finger was on the trigger as he lined up his sights with one of many who were about to be killed like the animals they were. Without a word, his weapon fired as he gunned down the enemy. Soon, he turned his gaze upon another unsuspecting victim.

The Rangers started the fight with sporadic gunfire and then the Nazis and the Reds joined them in cleaning the streets of the raiders. Not so long after, the NCR joined them with semi-auto shots at picking off the enemy one-by-one. Grenades were thrown about while the confused Fiends tried to get their bearings on fighting back. Such disorganization for the raiders was atrocious in Miller's eyes, but allowed the massive attrition rate to occur.

This was for Paveletskaya and their vengeance was complete.

* * *

A drifter looked at the area filled with Fiends, only to see them gunned down by the dozens. Whoever these foreigners were, they would prove a threat to his lord's rule throughout the region. The dissolutes had now sided with the profligates in dealing with these raiders. It was possible that the NCR and the dissolutes allied out of necessity to deal with the Fiends, but there was also the possibility that they became permanent allies out of this single battle.

He grabbed his radio and spoke to his superior on the other side of the channel. "Inform the legate that the arrival of the dissolutes have joined the NCR. I will relay any additional reports about our enemy as soon as possible."

The man on the other side was quick to reply. "Very well. The legate and Caesar will be pleased with your report. Do not break your cover and restrict your actions to observation."

"Understood, I will comply."

* * *

Author's Note: I apologize for the lack of an update, but between keeping my sleep schedule for Ramadan and school it tends to leave little room for fanfics. Thankfully, a Friday and the weekends are still off. So I'm good.

* * *

 **Paladin Bailey** : My notes say that you are very optimistic about the future.

 **Someguy the anon** : Hell if I know and I don't want to know.

 **Guest** : Thank you.

 **Another S.T.A.L.K.E.R** : You are probably thinking of Metro: Last Light. As for your comment about Artyom, I disagree. The guy dealt with Father Elijah, an ex-member of the Brotherhood of Steel who slapped bomb collars on anybody who would disagree with him out of greed. Ricky is a dog with all bark, but no bite. Do you get what I'm saying about the guy?


	35. Chapter 35: Zion Welcome

It has been weeks since caravan found themselves in the company of the Rangers and their two additional people. As they trekked through the tunnels, they saw a light on the other end of the cave system while Artyom's hopes were raised that he would see sunlight again. Meanwhile, the Rangers that were accompanying Jed carried five duffle bags of goods for trade with the light lifting everyone's spirits. "Thank god." The caravan leader replied. "I know you're all tired, but once we get to New Canaan we'll be going back with some caps."

Then Tomilin expressed his concern. "Are you sure we'll be able to find the closest settlement? Those slopes look like we won't leave whatever the hell this place is."

"Don't worry. Once we come into contact with the New Canaanites, they'll send us on our way." The assured him. "Everyone, keep your eyes peeled. We're now in tribal territory."

"Rangers, spread out."

When they exited the tunnel, Artyom raised his hand to keep the sunlight out of his eyes. Past the light, his gaze fell upon a beautiful canyon bathed in sunlight. Yet, his biggest awe was the sight of trees. The only green he had seen before were glowing mushrooms, but the sight of green everywhere made him curious about the days when he listened to his elders. "Wow." Was all he could say to summarize his thoughts about this strange land.

He walked to the edge of a cliff to see a bridge connecting his side of the canyon to the other side. His eyes looked below to see running water. Unlike the polluted streams of melted snow from the city of Moscow, he was looking at undiluted fresh water for anyone to drink. Then he heard the footsteps of his companion join him. "Damn, this is quite a sight to see. Which begs me a question, do you have anything like this back in Moscow?"

Artyom shook his head. "No. The Dead City has nothing like this. Here, it looks fresh and… living. Cass, have you seen your fair share of these places?"

"No. The Mojave is just sand and rock. Nothing much there."

Their sightseeing came to an end when Tomilin called them out. "Artyom, Cass, keep up."

They turned away from the edge of the cliffs followed the caravan and Polis Rangers to a trail that appeared to lead towards the bridge. Then Jed was quick to order his guards forward. "You two, advance ahead of the group. We'll follow after."

One of the caravan guards waved his hand while walking forward. "Got it, sir."

Ricky backed away from the others as he approached the armored caravaneer with his attempts… again. "We're still going to be weeks away from getting out of the caravan. You still want to have the short end of the straw."

Artyom noticed that Cass had tolerated Ricky's annoying advances ever since they left the Metro. Every now and then, he often felt the urge to personally discourage him. This man hadn't been to the Sierra Madre and neither did he understand what his friend had to endure. Yet, every opportunity was gone since she was quicker to deal with him. "I've seen your sort before and I'll say it again. No. Besides, you're too much of a goddamn coward compared to Artyom."

"Yeah right, I can bet you a hundred caps he'll be hiding behind a rock by the time a real fight happens."

"Double if my man can prove you wrong." Now she was betting on him. Of course, she knew her odds were better with him. Thoughts circulated throughout his mind about how Sukhoi would react to her. Yet, he couldn't resist the thought of having someone comment on how he left Exhibition to bring home a girl. Eugene would be jealous for… having her around.

Masterson grabbed everyone's attention when he raised his hands. "Hey everyone, hold up. I think I saw something." The young man saw everyone tense up while the Polis Rangers were quick to raise their weapons.

A loud crack echoed throughout the canyon as the group watched the heads of one of the caravan guards explode. The other one drew his lever-action rifle, but a half-naked man jumped out of a bush on his left with makeshift axe in hand. He had little time to react before he succumbed to the makeshift axe planted into his chest.

Tomilin screamed to the top of his lungs. "Contact! Get to cover!" He was quick to open fire on the ambusher and drop him. Then he pointed to the caravan's right for the set of rocks and broken trees that were waiting for him.

The caravan broke up in the chaos while Artyom saw several more of these savages appear on the cliffside above. He found shelter behind a tree still standing before glancing to his left to see the Rangers form a firing line and return fire at the sniper. "They're in the cliffs!"

He took in his observation as he called out to two of his men. "Grisha, Romanov, watch those cliffs. Everyone else, suppress the fuckers." The one with the crossbow on his back and the man afraid of Shrimps scanned for the cliffs watching their flanks. When they saw the enemy proceed to attack, they were prepared to gun them down.

Out of the trail leading towards the bridge, a dozen more of these tribals charged their positions. Unlike the previous assailants, they were equipped with sub-machine guns. When they spoke, their accent was different as they unleashed their firepower upon the caravans. He aimed his assault rifle downrange and joined his fellow Russians in keeping the enemy back.

During the fighting, he could hear Ricky whining over the gunfire. "Why is this happening to me? I didn't do anything except carry a broken Pip-Boy."

"Ricky, don't talk, shoot!" Stella snapped, firing her rifle.

Without a word, the cowering man brought up his sub-machine gun and fired his weapon over the rocks with one hand. Even though he was inaccurate, he contributed to the fighting in some form. Unlike the heavily armored Polis Rangers, lack of armor on the savages was showing when their corpses were littered the area.

"Is that it?" She wondered.

"I don't know." Tomilin replied. "That's too small for an ambush." Then he rose from behind the rocks. "Artyom, with me. Everyone else, stay put."

Whatever reason the Ranger had for him, the young man reluctantly walked out of cover while switching out his Kalash for his Tihar. Then he pumped the lever for more air pressure into his weapon. He didn't want to waste his bullets on anything. "What are we doing?"

"Sparking a response. Either these people ran or they're getting reinforcements." He reasoned.

"Shouldn't we move then?"

"Kid, look around you. We don't know jack shit about this place."

The duo proceeded to move onto the path and found themselves at the entrance to the bridge. "They didn't destroy the bridge."

"There is something off. I know it."

Across the bridge, Artyom saw another one of these white-painted savages with a long-barrelled rifle in his arms. "Sniper, across the bridge!"

"Don't let him take a shot!" The Ranger fired his assault rifle while Artyom switched out his makeshift weapon for his pre-war one. His slow reaction to the sniper made him fear for his life, but the gunfire stopped. "Hold up, there's another one."

In the middle of working his rifle, the sniper was attacked from behind. With a swing from his club, the sniper met an untimely end while his weapon slipped out of his grasp. Then the new arrival turned his gaze towards their position. A moment of silence came, as the savage stranger waved his hands at the duo before he strapped his club behind his back. "I think he's trying to tell us not to shoot."

"I don't know. Can't tell the difference between this guy and the ones that tried to kill us." As the dark-skinned man walked up to him, Tomilin raised his weapon. "Don't move any further."

The man did as he was told. "I am not here to hurt you." He said. "Came to help you."

"You certainly did."

The stranger placed a hand on his chest. "I am Follows-Chalk of the Dead Horses tribe. Joshua Graham sent me here to guide you to their camp, but the White Legs got here first. Are you the only two survivors?"

"Nyet, Artyom and I are making sure if there are any more of these White Legs lurking about." Tomilin replied.

"How can I trust your word before we get into an ambush?"

"The White Legs are our enemies and they poach our lands." Then Follows-Chalk looked around. "We need to go, now. More will come."

Tomilin swore to himself. "Jed, the area is clear!"

The caravan cautiously advanced as their gazes fell upon the savage with little to no clothes on his person. "You don't look like a White Leg."

"No." Follows-Chalk replied. "I'm a Dead Horse. Come, the White Legs will be looking for their dead."

Then Tomilin glanced over to his men. "If that's the case, we better scavenge whatever weapons they have. Those sub-machine guns might be worth having."

Once the dead were stripped from anything of value, the caravan followed their guide with their weapons drawn. Artyom noted this location's peaceful beauty while he noted several locations marked with paintings. "What do those paintings mean?"

The guide was quick to answer. "The Sorrows tribe marked those buildings to be haunted by angry spirits. They won't approach them, but I think they're too suspicious."

Ricky made a comment. "Damn savages."

However, Jed spoke. "Ricky, I'd shut the hell up if I were you. These people can be easily offended."

"Sorry for pointing out the obvious."

One of the Rangers scoffed at him. "I'll haunt your ass if your mouth gets us killed. You hear me?"

Then Jed began to ask questions. "Thanks for finding us, we were looking for a way to New Canaan. I hope you could help us out of Zion."

Follows-Chalk smiled. "Our leader wants to meet with anyone coming southways. Anyone who is attacked by the White Legs is under his protection."

"I can't wait to meet him myself so I could thank him."

"All of your are from the civilized lands? What's it like there? I hear you don't hunt for food or stay together as tribes to survive."

"No. Things are a lot different in the Mojave." Jed explained. "It's really hard to explain while walking. I think it's better once we head off to where you're taking us."

"We're heading to my camp. It will be safe from the White Legs."

They walked upon the broken road as Cass expressed her disgust with the heads planted on the sticks. "Damn, what did they do to deserve that?"

"The elders say the spirits of our enemies are trapped, but our leader says it is a message to the White Legs. To tell them we are not a tribe to be taken so easily." Follows-Chalk answered.

"No better than crucifiction, I say."

The group was directed away from the main road as they were brought into a an area filled with streams of water. "Is that where we should go?" Artyom wondered.

"Yes." The Dead Horseman said. "Watch out. There are traps in the water. We got to keep the White Legs out somehow."

One of the Rangers chuckled. "Shit, I can see why Romanov doesn't like the water. Also, light refracts with water."

"What the hell does that mean?" Ricky commented.

He shook his head. "Just avoid them in general."

Feeling the cold water through his boots, Artyom looked at the fish flitting past his feet. Then the caravaneer accompanying him made a remark about them. "Holy shit, there's fish!"

* * *

After navigating through the streams of water and around the traps, the caravan arrived at their destination. They found where the stream ended before they saw the dozens of makeshift tents made out of animal hide along with several campfires scattered around. Follows-Chalk waved his hand before the tribal guards returned the same gesture to their own. "We're here. All of you can settle down here."

Artyom joined the company in a single direction while he noticed the savages observe them. All of them had some form of paint on their faces as they smiled at their arrival. Then he noticed a woman walk out of a cave on the other side with her arms crossed. Unlike the others, she didn't smile. "Hoi, Owslandr zookah Joshua Graham?"

Jed seemed surprised by the name. "Yes… we're here to see him." The caravaneer said reluctantly.

The woman nodded her head in approval. "You will show respect to warchief."

Cass stood beside him and swore quietly. "Shit, Joshua Graham. What the hell is he doing here?"

Surprised by her response, Artyom wanted to understand the importance of that name. "Who is he?"

"He used to be the commander of the Legion forces during the Battle at Hoover Dam. The NCR won and he was punished for failure." She explained. "Now, we're going to meet him."

He tensed up after the revelation. "Now I don't feel comfortable being here."

"I hope we get out of Zion quickly. I don't want to be in his company."

The woman who appeared to be Joshua's second-in-command spoke up once again. "Only three of you will meet with warchief."

Then Jed glanced over to his party. "Um… Tomilin, mind keeping me company. The rest of our goods are secured, but I could use some bodyguards."

The Polis Ranger nodded his head. "I can do that. Anyone else wants to volunteer?" He asked.

Silence answered his call.

Despite Cass's view on the man and the mere fact that he was from Legion, there was something about him that made Artyom curious. If this man was a general from Caesar's armies, how did this man end up becoming a simple warchief? It was a risk worth taking, but nothing could compare to the Sierra Madre. "I'll come." He said.

Cass looked at him. "Are you crazy?"

"No, I'm just curious."

"He might kill you."

"We can't be sure till we come face-to-face."

Then Stella spoke up. "Good luck, kid. You'll need it if you're going to meet an ex-Legate."

Artyom stepped forward and followed Jed and Tomilin into the cave. Similar to the outside, caves were put up inside the tunnels with fire pits staving off the darkness. Both Russians never had the opportunity to put on their flashlights as the trio went through a maze to meet the man in charge of these people. The woman who guided them through had stopped in front of an entrance and turned her full attention on them. "He is here. Respect warchief."

"We will." Jed replied.

Then they stepped into a large open area with a natural platform area ready for them. It was fitting for a leader to address his subjects, but there was no throne for him. Instead, the entire place was an assortment of weapons and various foreign equipment present while a man sat behind a table and field stripping his pistols.

The young man imagined what Joshua would look like. Would he appear like the humble people he lead or wore lavish clothes? Yet, he was surprised at what he found. The man's entire body was covered in bandages save for his black armor and blue jeans. Joshua assembled one of many pistols together and turned his head in the direction of the newcomers. "This is God's land and he welcomes all who come here. As his follower, I welcome all of you to Zion, even the gentiles. Had I not been so busy, your caravan would have come to our safety before the White Legs even got here."

The caravan leader stepped forward and received his full attention. "Hello Joshua Graham, my name is Jed Masterson of the Happy Trails Company. Could you help get us on our way to New Canaan?"

"I know you have traveled many weeks from where you came from, but your journey was all in vain. New Canaan was wiped out by the White Legs and I am sad to say that you and your caravan are stuck here with us."

"New Canaan's god? Damn savages. Well, could you help us leave out of Zion?"

Joshua shook his head. "I would certainly help you, but I have other important matters that require my attention. However, your caravan cannot leave unless you want to die in the wild."

"Could we get a map and be on our way?"

"No, it's not that simple." The warchief of the Dead Horses replied. "The White Legs are beginning to bring their scouts into Zion Valley. Their desire to ravage God's holy earth has become a top priority to deal with. I need everyone to defeat the White Legs and I cannot spare any guides to help you."

Jed reaction poorly to that. "So we came all of this way for nothing. Now we're all trapped here."

"Not necessarily. Your caravan could help the Dead Horses and the Sorrows eliminate the White Legs once and for all. This spiritual and practical matter in helping us if you so wish. Once the White Legs are not dispersed from these lands, there is an opportunity for us to help you."

"Thank you, fine sir. I appreciate the help for our company."

"If it gives you any comfort, there is a New Canaanite in the company of the Sorrows. However, he cannot help you leave Zion with the White Legs threatening that tribe." The bandaged man replied.

Jed rubbed his forehead as he turned away from the leader of the Dead Horses. "Thank goodness the Burned Man told me himself. I have to tell the others. Come on people, let's go."

The Polis Ranger walked after him, but Artyom stayed put. He was curious about the man who once lead the forces of the Legion. Before he had an opportunity to talk, he felt a hand grab his wrist. He turned around and saw the commanding woman gesture her head out of the man's lair. "Leave Owslandr."

However, Joshua Graham's voice spoke. "No, he can stay. I believe this young man has something to say. Leave us be."

She released her grip on him before walking back to the rest of her people.

"It appears you didn't leave with the rest of your company. I'm sure you have a reason for being here."

Artyom gave himself a moment of silence before he could speak. "My curiosity got the better of me. I heard that he were once a commander of Caesar's Legion and I wanted to meet the man in person."

"Is that so? Then if you come to kill me, the Lord will give me the strength to fight back."

He shook his head. "No, I'm not here to kill you. Those were never my intentions, but merely to know the man who somehow made his way here."

"If you wanted to learn about the Burned Man, a story-teller would be fitting instead of the man himself."

"Sir, I'm not from the Mojave. My experience traveling America is limited."

"You're not from America?" He asked. "Please introduce yourself, you have my full attention."

"My name is Artyom Alekseyevich Chyornyj, but you can call me Artyom for short. I'm from Moscow in Russia or what's left of it."

"Intriguing, you are not the first person from Moscow to come here."

Artyom froze where he stood. "What do you mean?"

"Not too long ago, a strange man arrived in one of Zion's caves and met with Follows-Chalk. He wasn't aware of my presence, but he hailed from Moscow. This stranger called himself Khan, but he looked like he was no Great Khan." Joshua explained in great detail.

"Khan?"

"You know him?"

He nodded his head in confirmation. "Yes. He lead a friend of mine in the caravan and I through a dangerous part of the Metro. Were it not for him, we wouldn't be here."

"The Lord works in mysterious ways, but now that I know enough about you I think you deserve to know about me. It is a fair trade."

"How did you end up here?"

Joshua grabbed one of the pistols on the table as his eyes trailed down. "I was once a Legate of the Legion and one of its founders. We came across Hoover Dam, but I lost the battle against the NCR. As a result of my failure, Caesar put me in pitch and lit me on fire before throwing me into the canyon. At that moment, the fire within me burned more than the one around me. It took me months to get back to New Canaan, but they welcomed me back as if I did nothing wrong."

"I see. I apologize if I pried into something personal. I didn't mean no offence, sir."

"Worry not. God is always understanding and I believe you were just curious."

"What kind of guns are those?" Artyom asked.

"These weapons came from my ancestors. They are powerful weapons became a necessity to use ever since the White Legs got their hands on some very powerful sub-machine guns they call 'Storm-drums'. Are you interested in having one?"

The Russian gave out his hand and shook his head. "No. I already have a weapon built by my ancestors." Then he glanced at his Kalashnikov hanging from his shoulder. "This one has served my people well from before the war and even after the bombs fell."

"If I didn't have these bandages, I would have smiled." Joshua replied.

"Are you in pain? Do you need any medicine?"

To his surprise, he never thought the Burned Man would chuckle. "No. I have become used to the pain to care. I doubt any medicine will rid me of the pain when I expose my flesh to the air, but God prefers a man who cleans himself than remain comfortable."

"You place much emphasis in God. I've never met anybody who were that religious."

"Do you believe in God?"

Artyom lowered his head as he thought about his time whether the deity actually helped him. "I don't know. It's rather difficult to believe in God when he's left you to die in some tunnels."

Joshua rose from his seat and stepped down the rocky platform to meet the Russian face-to-face. Then his hand was clamp down on his shoulder. "Perhaps it is God's way of helping you endure such hardships to test your faith. A way to find hope when there is nothing else to believe in." The warchief of the Dead Horses changed the subject. "The rest of your caravan would be worried that you stayed here longer the leader of your caravan. Rest easy in our camp, we'll share our food and water with your people after a long travel such as yours."

The young man turned away from the Burned Man as he made his way out.

* * *

Night had fallen as the caravan joined the Dead Horses in their dinner. Despite the commotion, Cass looked at Artyom's tent to see him sleeping quietly. "He's sleeping well." She commented while sitting beside a campfire with the Polis Rangers receiving their wooden bowls of fruits and various animal meet.

Then Joshua Graham came to their campfire and joined them. "I hope our hospitality is doing good enough for everyone."

The survivors of the caravan attack nodded their heads in approval while Stella spoke up. "So we're going to help you tomorrow to find a way out Zion?"

"Yes. The White Legs have become a threat enough that we shouldn't need your help, but we do. At the moment, we cannot risk God's land to be in the hands of these…" His eyes glanced over to Ricky, who had just shoved a syringe of jet into his body. "...animals."

The man in the blue jumpsuit looked at the others when they all stare at him. "What?"

"I hope that is your last shot of jet." He said. "If I see any of the Dead Horses succumb to that, your head will go on the pike."

Jed was quick to ask a question. "What kind of conversation did you have with Artyom to be in there so long?"

"The discussion was appears to have been a personal one for him and I think he needed somebody to talk to him about it."

Cass found herself surprised that Artyom was even granted an audience with the man himself. It felt strange that the man who once led the armies of the Legion was their welcoming host who gave them shelter and food for their stay. Then her ears heard whimpering in one of the tents. She looked around, only to see Artyom turning around in his sleep, but making noise. Out of all the things she could discern in his mumblings, one word could be recognized. "Rats, rats, rats…"

She rose up from her campfire along with several others as she made her way to his side. "Artyom, are you okay?" Then she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Artyom?"

He opened his eyes and immediately sat up; however, his adrenaline rush made him reach for his weapons. "Rats! Where are the rats!"

Cass stayed his hand from reaching for his revolver before he realized the attention he placed on himself. "Artyom, it's okay. Nothing is out to get you."

Once he calmed down, the young man placed his hands on his face. "I think I had a nightmare."

"Go back to sleep. It's okay."

Once Artyom slipped back onto his bed of straws, Cass joined the others at the campfire. However, she heard Tomilin speak. "I figured it be him."

"What do you mean?"

"If he's Sukhoi's son, then he probably has some nightmares from his real home station before he was taken into his care. Artyom is from Timiryazevskaya, everyone at his station was eaten alive by a swarm of rats. Only a five-man squad and a baby survived the encounter."

Then Joshua made a comment. "This was in Moscow."

The Ranger nodded his head. "The only reason they survived was the fact they had the only motorized trolley with enough oil to get them through several stations."

"Did those stations get saved?"

"No, the rats got them too."

Stella dropped her jaw. "What the actual fuck?"

"Welcome to the Metro. The only reason they were stopped was the fact somebody busted out a flamethrower to burn them back." Tomilin explained.

Silence fell through the camp as they continued to dig into their meal.

"I see." Spoke Joshua Graham. "I'll pray that God helps him deal with his nightmares and demons."

* * *

Someguy the anon: Thanks.

iloveTanks: Hans is a supporting character. No guarantees he'll live.

Paladin Bailey: Depends. The Polis Rangers still have a responsibility to the Metro and the NCR still has a warhawk foreign policy.

Aren serathy: I see.

DocHoliday0316: Yes, I am excited for Metro Exodus. It has been years since the end of Last Light. Plus, I need something to scratch my S.T.A.L.K.E.R itch.


	36. Chapter 36: God's Work

Artyom opened his eyes as he slowly sat up from his cot and slipped out of his tent. He stretched his arms before observing the entire camp. Only a quarter of the tribals that greeted them in their camp remained. Perhaps they went to do their work while their guests remained? It was just like home.

He heard Cass's voice call him from his right. "Morning, Arty. Did you sleep well?"

When he turned his head, his eyebrows were raised when at the sight of Cass bathing in the waters of Zion with only two pieces of clothing. His cheeks were oddly warm in this weather as he did his best to avoid making the moment weird. Hopefully, this was the whiskey making her do that. "Yes. I slept well."

"Aw, you're blushing. I should do this more often." She said as she stepped out of the water and reached for a fur towel atop of her belongings.

"Maybe you should stop drinking every now and then?"

"Not going to happen." Then the caravanner brought out two wooden bowls sitting beside her clothes lying against the rocks. "The Dead Horses made breakfast. They hunted some fresh geckos this morning. Now you better eat up quick, Joshua wants to brief you and the Rangers on getting out of Zion."

Artyom was quick to slip in a remark. "Are you sure you want to leave? From what I can tell, you seem to be enjoying this."

A warm smile was all she could offer. "Only for you. Now that we have some personal time to ourselves, how long am I going to wait until I meet your dad? You seem to be taking your sweet time."

"If you haven't noticed, we've been getting side-tracked by the Sierra Madre and surviving a tribe filled with degenerates." He countered. "I'm surprised we even have a conversation about our-"

"Relationship." She cutted.

"...our friendship."

"You better make a decision, I can't wait any longer."

"I know." Artyom replied as he walked up to her and took his bowl. Thoughts the Dark Ones foreshadowing about the future worried him. "I just want to take things slowly. This is my first time."

"It can't be that bad as having entire caravans cut down by raiders. Hell, I think I'm bankrupt at this point. Aside from that, I'm on Ranger Jackson's shitlist for leaving the outpost with my papers."

Soon, the Russian started to eat into his meal.

* * *

Ranger Tomilin sat in his wooden chair as he inspected his weapon by ejecting his magazine out of his Kalashnikov and adding more dirty bullets to its full capacity. Meanwhile, Joshua Graham was standing near the edge of the cliff, looking down on his camp and the rest of Zion. He had hoped to join Colonel Miller and his men in fighting against the Legion threat, but here he was as a guest of an ex-Legionary.

Joshua's admiration for the sun rising was short-lived when he turned around with his weapon in hand. "I suppose you want to know what I plan for you and your people."

The Russian laid his weapon in his lap. "What do you have in store for us?"

"Daniel, my friend who is in the company of the Sorrows tribe, needs several items that will help you get out of Zion. However, they are scattered throughout Zion in the pre-war buildings. What you will need to find is a compass, three lunch boxes, and two walkie talkies. Then you will head over to the Sorrows and bring them to him."

"In other words, we're stalking for old equipment?"

"I do not understand."

Tomilin slipped his magazine into his assault rifle before slipping the weapon behind his back. "In Moscow, we have a profession of scavengers called stalkers. They usually look around for pre-war objects with anything of value. I presume you need us for that?"

Johsua nodded and understood the concept. "Yes. They might also help us deal with the White Legs since they preferable avoid such structures. It is something that has to do with an angry father of the caves the Sorrows speak of."

He scoffed at the idea. "Thankfully, I'm not a superstitious man."

"Just because they're easy to locate doesn't mean you will be fine. Once you all leave the safety of our camp, you will be fighting the wildlife of the scouts the White Legs have sent."

"I see. It's complete chaos down there. Looks like I got my work cut out for me. I'll tell the others about what you have in store for us."

"I also noticed that someone in your company wears a Pip-Boy. You will need it. She already has a map of Zion and it should help you located the areas with little trouble." The Burned Man stated.

"Thanks for the help." Tomilin replied with gratitude.

"It is the will of God and he will help you in such times. I pray that you succeed finding what you need."

* * *

Everyone in the caravan had split up into four groups. Three of them would leave the safety of the camp to locate the necessary tools for their survival; however, the fourth group would stay behind to secure their goods. Tomilin had inspected Cass's Pip-Boy and drew up several maps that roughly described the terrain across the entire valley. It wasn't accurate as the Pip-Boy itself, but it was better than nothing.

Thankfully, Joshua allowed his scouts to help these groups navigate through valley and avoid the wildlife. Follows-Chalk led the way out of the camp as Artyom and Cass walked out of the camp. "Joshua said there are some tools for you from the way back days. We need to be careful, the White Legs have scouts everywhere and there are some Yao Guai going hungry."

Cass immediately asked a question. "What's a Yao Guai?"

"It's a very big beast and it's often angry. They're found running all over Zion. Best to stay away. They're very hard to kill." The Dead Horse guide replied.

"Have you actually hunted them down?"

"No. I am a scout and the hunters often had trouble trying to kill one. Why do you ask?"

"Simply curious." She answered.

Artyom looked to his right and found a cave, but there was bushes in the way as if it was meant to be hidden. "What's in that cave?"

Follows-Chalk looked at the sight and stopped walking. "I don't know, but the Sorrows say the caves are lived by someone called the Father in the Caves. They worship him, but they believe anybody who goes in there will feel his wrath. It's just superstition."

"After what Cass and I went through, they might have a good reason." He said. Then he walked towards the cave.

However, he heard the Dead Horseman ask a question. "It sounds like a lesson from the civilized lands. Why do you believe that?"

"Civilized? Cass and I are no more civilized than you like the droplets of water." He reasoned. "Before we go, I'm going to check these tunnels out."

"Well, I better go back and get some fire."

Artyom turned on his flashlight as he walked into the cave. "No need for that. I can make do."

The trio diverged from their main path as they entered the natural underground. There were some routes that ended with a cave-in, but there were other ways out. When they finally reached their destination, the stalker's flashlight lit up an entire open area before them. However, there was several boxes and signs of human occupation within these caves. "It looks like somebody was living in here." Follows-Chalk commented as he was about to step forward.

Yet, experience in the Metro tunnels had taught the young man that some people have the sense to make it defensible. If they were sleeping here, there must have been a way to trigger an alarm. He looked down before his hand shot out in front of him. "Don't move."

The young man beside him froze. "What is it?"

The Russian fell to one knee as he drew his knife out of his sheathe. "If somebody lives here, then they need to put a trap for intruders. I can see why the Sorrows believe these caves are haunted." His flashlight scanned the entire room as he noticed the two shotguns angled in from the side. "Whoever lived here had those shotguns waiting for us. Watch your step and check your surroundings. Cass, get your light on if you can."

Soon, a green light accompanied her as they explored the large cave space. After Artyom dismantled the trigger mechanisms he was quick to make his way towards the crates in the center of this place. He walked over to them and lifted the cover off. His eyes fell upon several shotguns with plenty of ammo for everyone. Yet, the young man looked down and noticed a pistol similar to the ones Joshua had stockpiled.

He reached for the pistol and grabbed it from the bottom of the crate to inspect it himself. His mind felt a strange feeling in his head. Artyom felt it his control slip away from him as he fell to the ground. Falling to the ground didn't go unnoticed by Follows-Chalk and Cass before he succumbed to a slumber.

* * *

It had been some time since Artyom had returned to any of these dream-like states, but there was something supernatural that didn't. The stalker looked around and hoped there was a good reason for this to happen all suddenly. His eyes noticed a blue light in the distance, but there was a large body of water keeping him away from reaching it. Yet, there was a man sitting near the water as he looked at the light from afar. "I'm sorry, Char. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you and Alex."

He had never encountered this person before in these moments, but when he took a step forward he heard a crackle coming underneath his boot. Artyom looked down to see that he stepped on a twig before he looked up at the stranger whose back was turned away from him raise his head. The sound caught his attention as he turned around.

"Who goes there?" He demanded.

The stranger's gaze fell upon him while Artyom saw a middle-aged man with black hair stare at him. It appeared he went through a nightmare while he wore a long coat around him. He reached for deep inside of his pockets, but the young man could hear the voices of his company call out to him. "Wake up, Artyom! Wake up!"

* * *

Out from his mind, Cass sat beside him while Follows-Chalk stood over her shoulder. He was quick to comment about this strange moment for him. "That is odd. What happened to you? Are you sick?"

Artyom sat up from the stone-cold floor as he placed his hand over his head. "No, I'm not sick." He answered. "Sorry about that."

"Should I tell Joshua about this?"

He shook his head. "No, but let's get what we need. I don't want to get too curious about these caves."

* * *

Hours had passed since they had left the strange cave that was once occupied, but it was easy to forget about it when the trio could hear gunfire in the distance and the wildlife thriving all around just to kill one-another. A minute ago, he saw a giant insect creature take on a greenish-yellow lizard all by itself. While he trekked through the land, he pumped his Tihar's air pressure to the maximum and was grateful he spent several cartridges into an air-tight valve. However, he would have to use the ammo sparingly.

They had just crossed a bridge and found their destination. "Here we are," Follows-Chalk spoke, "the tools should be in there. Be careful, I hear some strange critters lurk the buildings."

Artyom's finger was close to the trigger. "Then we better make this quick." He said as he made his way towards the door. "Cass, you go first since you have the four-barrels."

The caravaneer appeared to enjoy the opportunity. "Finally, I get to use this thing." She acknowledge as she unlocked the door with her barrels aimed within the wooden strucker.

He followed after her as she fired her first blast of shotgun shells. When he entered the building, he saw an entire aisle of dead insects on the floor. On the left side of the room, there were these two small insects with pincers as tails. The creatures' advance towards them was short-lived when Cass sweeped that side of the building.

"Reloading!" She shouted before tossing out the empty shotgun shells.

Meanwhile, Artyom stepped forward and looked around for what was needed. Tomilin had told him that the group would need five of these so-called lunch boxes if they were going to be leaving Zion. "Go look for the lunch boxes, I'll check everything else." Observing the entire room, his gaze fell upon the locked door on the other side of the aisles. Perhaps there was something there worth exploring.

He walked towards the door and turned the knob, but when he opened it he found a flying bug rotate towards him with its wings buzzing. The stalker's immediate reaction resulted with firing two ball-bearings into its large behind before exploding with its green-yellow blood everywhere. Then he began to search the room for anything of value, but there was very little to offer to him. There were pre-war toys, leftover food that was surprisingly untouched, and the terminal did not contain anything meaningful aside from pre-war messaging about the wrong shipments.

Cass walked into the room, informing him about their situation. "I got all of the lunch boxes. Do you have any room in your knapsack?"

"Yeah, here." Artyom took off his knapsack and unzipped it open before stuffing the metal boxes along with the rest of his inventory. "There, we should be good."

Follows-Chalk ran into the building as he yelled for his life. "White Legs are here!" The stalker could hear the foreign yelling outside as the young man drew out his large pistol and fired upon them.

The duo were quick to come to his aid as they busted down the windows with the butt of their weapons. A group of a dozen savages were on the road as their leader pointed his finger towards their building. They had more people to overrun them, but Artyom knew they had the building for defense. He switched out his Tihar for his Kalashnikov while Cass put down her Duplet for her automatic rifle.

The enemy fired upon their position with sub-machine gun fire peppering the wood. Yet, half of those White Legs only carried melee weapons as they rushed towards them. Artyom pulled the trigger as he watched his bullets cut them down. Then Cass's assistance helped hasten their demise.

Although they killed half of the White Legs, their ranged people were far more threatening. His eyes saw the gunfire penetrate through the wooden walls come into contact with his friend's. He was filled with terror when she stood up and watched her take enemy gunfire while the armor stopped the bullets. Yet, she was unable to stop herself from falling onto the ground.

Filled with anger, the stalker aimed through the scope of his weapon and fired in six bursts. In a matter of seconds, the White Legs were lying on the ground. He slid over to the caravaneer's side as she groaned. "Cass, are you okay?"

The woman placed a hand on her armor and began patting it down. "I think so." As she sat up, she shook her head. "The armor got the bullets. Damn, that's one hell of an experience."

Follows-Chalk spoke up and caught their attention. "I thought they killed you."

She chuckled at the comment. "They wished they did. The only reason I'm alive is because of this armor. Well, it handled well to whatever the hell they were wearing." Then she glanced over to him. "Hey, mind getting their guns. I'd think I'm out of ammo for this gun."

"Yes, will get them." The Dead Horseman replied as he left the building for the dead corpses of the White Legs.

Then she glanced over to the Russian. "I know this is a bad time to tell you, but I think you need to carry me."

"Carry you?" He wondered.

"Yeah. Those bullets knocked the wind out of me and I'd think it be nice of you to carry me."

"Why? You can stand up."

"So much for a special moment between both of us." She said.

"We haven't gotten there yet."

Then Follows-Chalk shouted at them from outside. "I don't wish to trouble both of you, but we need to leave."

"Why?!" Both the stalker and the caravaneer asked.

"There is a Yao Guai about to enter the building."

Without a word, Artyom carried his friend in his arms and sprinted out of the building. A loudbesital cry called for him as he looked over his shoulder to see a large black mass of angry coming for him. "Follows-Chalk, WE ARE LEAVING!"

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks to the previous chapters, my writing juices are still there and allowed me to post another one. Hope you all enjoyed this one.

* * *

 **The Great Big World** : Thanks. Go check out some of my other Metro fics. Maybe you'll like them.


	37. Chapter 37: The Survivalist's Sorrow

The caves of Zion made Artyom curious about the person who lived in them. His mind sensed a presence of somebody there. If the evidence from the first cave he entered was anything to by, questions entered his mind. However, he would have to handle this matter alone. Nobody from the caravan and the Dead Horses tribes would understand it. Maybe Cass would, but there are some things that are best left for him to deal with.

Even though his time with Bourbon was only for a moment, the Russian stalker learned to be cautious within these caves. Tripwires attached to grenades, shotguns positioned for the visitor, and bear traps could have ended his life if the experienced stalker had not taught him about being cautious. Though, he was never prepared for mines with automatic sensors. Thankfully, Hunter's armor saved him from the shrapnel of fragmentation.

Now he found himself in this dream-like state, hoping to have contact with the man who could have killed him. His back was on the ground when he saw a tall figure standing over him with his sidearm in his hand. Unlike his previous experience where he saw his face, this man was wearing a heavily armored helmet with green sockets staring at him. "Alright, who are you and why are you here?"

The Russian put out his hands with his palms out. He knew this was just a supernatural state, but he didn't want to make a mistake and get himself killed. "I'm Artyom, I… I don't know how to explain this, but… I entered these caves and somehow found myself brought here."

The masked man paused for a moment. "You're a Russian. I can tell by your accent. What brings a Russian in Zion?"

"I got lost." He answered with an honest heart. "It's hard to explain, but I accidentally got lost. Then I stumbled upon your caves."

"Looking for safety, huh? I can't blame you, the world has changed ever since the bombs fell… before I died." The stranger said. "So how did you die?"

"I didn't."

The man took off his helmet, revealing his face once more and the black hair he saw in his previous encounter. "Figures, I guess I have it bad. How are you able to speak to me when you're not dead?"

Artyom sat up and looked down. "I can sense things - anomalies. You're one of them." He answered. "If you are dead, then I'm exploring the places where you used to live."

"I hope you haven't started looting them."

He shook his head. "No, I'm discovering caches, but I didn't go there for them. I came to find you."

"Really? What brings a good 'ole Russkie in the middle of nowhere just to find a dead man who should have died?"

"Curiosity." Artyom replied. "I've been told that a group of tribals don't like to go in your caves, because they say they're cursed."

The stranger chuckled. "They're not wrong. Those caches are meant for the Mexican kids. They deserve them more than me. I'm long gone."

"Mexicans?"

The man stared at him with surprise, but paused for a moment. "I forgot, you're a Russian. That still begs me to ask, why is a Russian on the west coast? Did they work with the Chinese to take over America?"

Artyom looked down on the ground and rubbed the back of his head. "If I told you, you'd call me insane."

"Kid, you're talking to a dead man who has been lurking around the caves for far too long and has seen things you wouldn't believe."

"Well, I'm from another universe where the bombs fell at a different time."

"Really? That's a new one. I would have thought it be something along my fellow human beings trying to kill anybody who isn't them." He stated. "You said the bombs fell at a different time?"

The Russian nodded his head. "The bombs fell in twenty-thirteen, it's currently twenty-thirty-three. I was very young when it happened." He felt a hand pressed on his shoulder. Then he looked up to see the stranger.

"Looks like that makes two of us. Good to meet you, Artyom. My name's Randall Clark." He introduced himself. "If you're still alive, try to find my body. You probably might find something of use there."

In a blink of an eye, the strange dream-like state ended.

* * *

Joshua stood near the edge of the river with his arms crossed. Ever since the caravaneers and their foreigners salvaged the belongings of the old world, they would be traveling together to meet with Daniel and the Sorrows tribe. He would have to do his best to safely escort them through Zion while White Leg scouts stalked God's sacred land without punishment. It would have been better if the Sorrows helped secure Zion, but Daniel's insistence on keeping them away from bloodshed was problematic. He respected him for his willingness to not let the tribes break their innocence, but his pragmatism from his time as the Malpais Legate of Caesar's Legion made him believe it was a foolish endeavor.

His eyes watched the water while he was deep in thought, but then he heard splashing nearby. Somebody was entering the camp. The acting war leader of the Dead Horses reached for his sidearm as he waited for the person to arrive. If it was a White Leg that snuck through, he would be there to bring the wrath of God upon him.

When the person arrived around the corner of the valley, he recognized the Russian armor those Polis Rangers wore. However, this one was carrying several duffle bags and a pre-war rifle with him. As he got closer, Joshua saw it was Artyom who returned to the camp. "You should consider yourself lucky, young man. I would have shot you on sight. Why are you out in the middle of the night?"

Artyom stopped walking towards him and looked back. Then he returned his gaze upon the burned man. "I was exploring. There are rumors that the caves are haunted and I decided to investigate them myself. These are what I found."

"Tomorrow, you and your fellow people will be making their way to the Sorrows tribe. It is best that you do not mention this to them. They consider it a taboo for anybody to enter the places that hold the Father of the Caves." He warned.

"Here's the thing, I got through the traps and…"

"What?" Joshua wondered. "Is there something you wouldn't want to tell me?"

The young man nodded his head. "I might sound crazy if I told you, but… I spoke with him. He's real, but he's merely a man who has found no peace in death." So this is why he was reluctant to speak with him.

The burned man thought upon the matter and smiled underneath all of the bandages that covered his scars. "How were you able to speak with him?"

"Where I am from, there is a group of creatures that have adopted me." Artyom began. "I was young when they took me in, but they were kind to me and they gave me a gift since I was part of it. It allowed me to sense oddities - anomalies as we call it in the Metro. Somehow, it let me talk to the restless soul in those caves."

Joshua didn't know what to make of this, but it didn't matter to him. At best, he didn't want to Daniel's efforts to bring the word of God to the tribals. "This is no concern of mine, but do keep this to yourself."

The young man nodded his head and walked past him with the caches of supplies and weapons he found. He was strange, that was all the former legate of the Legion could really think of him. Just as strange as the old man who was found by Follows-Chalk.

* * *

The main group walked through the wild lands of Zion with the Polis Rangers walking ahead of the caravaneers and the stalker. It was awkward that the Dead Horses were close by despite not being seen by the outsiders. Meanwhile, Cass noticed Artyom was tired than what she usually seen of him. The caravaneer's legs moved through the waters of Zion as she noticed several near-naked people waiting for them at the entrance of falling water. "Are they the Sorrows?" She asked.

To the group's surprise, there was a man who offset the tribal appearances of the people he found company in. He was surprisingly handsome for a missionary before she noticed the sub-machine gun strapped to his back. She was looking at a New Canaanite, one who looked just like an average tribal in the wasteland. The black cowboy hat fit well with his red shirt as he raised his head to reveal his eyes. "Hello, Joshua sent word that he'd be sending all of you once you give the Sorrows what we need." The stranger spoke. "I heard that you were attacked by the White Legs, it's not much, but you have my deepest sympathies. I'm Daniel."

Jed Masterson walked up to him with the various tools they needed to find. "It's quite a refreshing sight to see a missionary of the New Canaanites after a long time. I believe you'll need these more than us, especially the lunchboxes."

"What makes you say that?"

"One of our Russian friends managed to go out prospecting and now we have more duffle bags than a caravan should have." He reasoned.

"I will not argue with that." Then he gestured his hand towards him. "Come with us. If you truly want to be safe, join the Sorrows. We won't have to worry about the White Legs coming this far. Joshua and the Dead Horses will be taking care of them while I get these people out."

A loud bestial cry echoed from behind their backs of the group, enough for Cass to turn around and see a pack of mean black beasts that were charging towards them. One of the Sorrows shouted and identified the threat to the people. "Yao Guai!" The rest of the words they followed after didn't click into her mind.

Soon the Polis Rangers moved to the rear of the group and open fired. Ranger Tomilin spoke. "Sparta, to battle!" Among the men, Cass noticed Artyom join them in forming a firing line before they unleashed their firepower across the water. Several bullets that missed their obviously large targets had peppered the water while others fired off shotgun shells and deployed their makeshift weapons.

She was quick to join them as she fired her four-barreled shotgun, letting the large mass of pellets do the damage for her. However, the rest of the caravaneers didn't appear to have the same amount of courage to take on four Yao Guai beasts.

Ricky's cry was quick to summarize the entire situation. "Forget that, I'm out!"

Tomilin ordered the Ranger with the makeshift crossbow on his back. "Grisha, put those fuckers down!" He shouted.

One of the Rangers stepped forward in the shallow water with his makeshift crossbow, aiming his multi-barrelled 'bolts' in the general direction of the predators. Unlike the sounds of the bullets, the bolts whistled out from the barrels and found their way into the large creatures. The first two Yao Guais that approached them, found themselves floating in the river while blood seeped into the clean water. However, the next two were immediate to replace them.

"Keep firing, keep firing!"

Cass slipped four more shotgun shells into the Duplet before considering the extreme option that Artyom had shown him. She readied her arm for the firepower to come and with a single shot, all four barrels emptied their shells as the woman stumbled back by the force alone.

The third Yao Guai succumbed to its wound, leaving the final survivor of its pack to descend upon the reloading Russians. However, Daniel's shouting surprised her. "Waking Cloud, wait-" He never had the opportunity to finish his words when a bald woman charged into the Yao Guai with a claw of a creature in her hand.

When she struck into the bear, the beast found itself surprised as it looked around for its attacker. "You will not hurt them."

The woman watched in awe as the woman from the degenerate tribe rapidly stabbed at the side of the beast. Annoyed by her attacks, the creature turned its full attention towards the woman roared towards her. Then the woman found herself on quick on her feet as the Yao Guai swiped at her, only to back away from the attacks. Yet, this gave the firing line enough time to reload their weapons before blasting away at the creature's flank.

The fighting came to a halt when the dangerous monster fell to its side and floated away. "All of you are lucky." The woman named Waking Cloud said as she walked towards the group. "The Yao Guai are very powerful creatures. You should be thankful we were around to help you."

One of the Rangers, Romanov spoke up. "Your weapon, it's made from their claws."

"Yes. It is how I was able to kill the beast. No war club from the Dead Horses could match with the hunting weapons of our tribe." She answered. "We should get into the camp and let all of you speak with Daniel from there."

* * *

As it turned out, Daniel also needed the help of the caravaneers in finding the pre-war equipment to escape the savage White Legs that threaten them. However, the Polis Rangers openly volunteered to tackle the problem with the help of one of the Dead Horsemen to guide them through the land. This gave the group enough free time to interact with the locals of this land.

Stella accompanied Jed as he did his best to trade with the only New Canaanite amongst the tribe. At the same time, Cass was found setting up a tent while annoyed by Ricky's attempts at trying to sleep with him. Despite the man's attitude towards him and his companion, Artyom didn't mind given that she could take care of herself without worry.

What interested the stalker the most was the sheer amount of caves enclosed in this part of Zion. It almost felt like home… almost. The greatest exception to that was the mere fact it was natural and not built by the ancestors of the people who lived in them. He became curious, exploring each cave and getting rid of the traps that lay before him. However, his discoveries came across ancient terminals that had messages that mentioned a man who survived the bombs and endured his hell within this land. Artyom knew it was _him_ that wrote these messages and they were no better than his journal. He would have to keep notes down about the man, but it saddened him that each entry was filled with horror.

Due to the sheer amount of duffel bags he brought to the caravan, Jed handed one to him and it gave him more capacity carry more with him. Without it, salvaging the unused weapons and the extra food would have been limited each time he went into these caves. He even discovered the very armor Randall Clark wore in his supernatural moments with him. The man immediately slipped them into his duffle bag until he heard strange whispering from the corner of the cave.

Artyom had his flashlight on as he became tempted to turn around, but he didn't want to alert his enemies that he knew about them. However, he had an idea which might have worked. With the flick of his switch, the stalker's flashlight turned off before he lowered his night vision goggles over his eyes and looked around. The whispering had gotten closer, but he was met with five people slowly walking out from the corner of the cave.

His eyes found White Legs lurking in the darkness as they became clueless about his true location. Three of them carried melee weapons while the other two carried sub-machine guns. There was a temptation to grab his Kalashnikov and shoot them, but the bullets and gunfire would reveal his position.

Artyom drew his Tihar as he lined up the sights of his silenced weapon at one of the men who would be quick to gun him down. Once his head met with the iron sights, he fired. A quick puff of air escaped his weapon, but the deed was done. One of the White Legs with the sub-machine guns was eliminated. Yet, he alerted the woman beside him. Another ball bearing flew overhead and took another life within the darkness.

Everything changed when one of the savages with a makeshift sword attached to a strange object was now on fire. They had the power of light on their hands and he couldn't let them us it against him. Without hesitation, Artyom fired several more shots into the man's chest before the next two were quick to realize their casualties. One of them descended for the sword while the other one ran towards the exit. The stalker fired several more shots from his weapon, but the air pressure was below its halfway point.

When the last White Leg took the gear of his fallen brethren, the savage man was filled with rage as he just so happened to charge towards him.

Artyom grabbed ahold of his pump as he tried to put more force behind those shots, but the enemy was already several meters away from him. His hand released his hold on the Tihar as he grabbed for his revolver. It was too late when the savage swung his blade down and broke his weapon in two. He could reach for his assault rifle, but escaping death was top priority.

Then three gunshots echoed throughout the caves. At the entrance, Joshua Graham stood there with the barrel of his sidearm smoking. "Your curiosity with these caves almost cost you your life. Consider yourself lucky my arrival saved you. The next time it might not happen."

The young man turned on his flashlight as he shined it on the burned man. "I know, but this is just one of those exceptions. Reading about the man who once lived in these caves has taught me one thing, a lot has happened to this Father in the Caves."

"Really? Are you that curious about somebody who is long gone? Is it truly worth the risk?"

"Yes. Perhaps there is a reason why Zion is so special and why my mind feels his presence whenever I come to these caves."

"You mentioned that you were adopted by a group of creatures that gave you this power. What are they?" Joshua asked.

When met with the question, Artyom knew he couldn't lie about the topic. He was their host and he probably deserved something in return. "They're called Dark Ones. I was rather young when they adopted me, but they are the reason why you and I are not separated by a language barrier. It is because of them."

He could see the Malpais Legate raise his eyebrows. "That is truly something. Which begs me to question, is this Father in the Caves an actual god who helps his people?"

His head shook at the thought. "No, he is merely a man. Apparently, these caves were some sort of inheritance to some children called Mexicans. I have little knowledge of who they were, but it was meant for them. I'm merely speeding up the process."

"It is possible that the Sorrows are their descendants. After all, they speak about his 'gifts' in the caves, but somehow became forbidden to them. Perhaps you can somehow explain it to them while I speak with Daniel, this gives me more reason to convince him to let the Sorrows fight for their home."

* * *

Cass sat down as she tossed another bottle of whiskey aside. The caravaneer was happy that Ricky was gone when he figured out his chances became slimmer. She wanted to shoot the man, but it wasn't a crime for being a creepy pervert. One of the degenerate tribals walked up to her with a smile on her face. Unlike the other tribals, she recognized the woman who sat across from her. "You're Waking Cloud? I saw you in action earlier. That's quite something when you fought those big guys."

The savage bowed her head. "Oh, it is my experience as a hunter of the tribe."

"So you hunted those things before."

"Once." She replied. "It was my first time slaying the creature and it was a right of passage for me. Few ever survived their encounters with a Yao Guai, but it is good."

"How did you learn our language?" Cass wondered. "I've noticed the other members of your tribe, but they don't know how to talk with us."

"Daniel taught me how to speak the words of the New Canaanite so we may understand the teachings and earn the blessings of the father." Her mood was brighten when she talked about him. "He also helped me when I once birthed a child. Were it not for him, the rivers would have taken both of us. After that, I learned from him."

"That's good. It's useful knowledge when it comes to newborns."

"I notice that you always drift towards one of those black warriors in your company. Is he your mate?"

The mere question surprised her as she thought about explaining the matter to her. "No, we are not mates, but we do care for each other."

"He seems like a good man. When will he be the father of your children?" Waking Cloud asked.

"I do not believe you understand, Cloud. Artyom is somewhat reluctant given that… he's from another land." Thank goodness she still had a clear head despite the recent swigs of alcohol. "He's from a different… tribe in a different land that has different customs. Artyom wants to introduce me to his father."

The Sorrows woman nodded her head in understanding. "I see. Our tribe knows little outside of the land of Zion, but now I see why you keep to his side. You remind me of myself when I was once young."

"You're married?" Cass asked.

"Yes. My husband is with my children to ensure they are safe from the White Legs. Now that I've mentioned him, it has been awhile since we last spoken. I'll have to ask Daniel about him."

"Your children must be wonderful if they have a personality that is nice as yours."

"Thank you. Your words make me filled with joy."

* * *

Tomilin and his men took refuge on the remains of a pre-war building. Although it was painted with white handprints, the station provided security and eyes within the surrounding area. The Ranger took out his binoculars, scanning the area for any potential savages and wildlife that dared to assault their position. "Alright people, don't get too cozy. We can't risk getting killed while sitting back."

Grisha stood beside him, swiping the Yao Guai blood off his bolts before planting them back into his crossbow. "Hard not to do that. All we just need to do is have several men run act as sentries while the others rest up for their time. What we should be worried about is Romanov, Red, and Petr are all by themselves and have a chance of getting shafted by these fuckers."

"I hope well for their safety, but they're Polis Rangers." He assured his peer. "They can handle themselves." Then he looked to the south side of the tower and noticed white movement coming near the shore of the river. When the Ranger looked through his binoculars, he saw dozens-upon-dozens of White Legs carrying weapons and various objects with them. "Grisha, does Artyom have a radio on him?"

"I think so, why do you ask?" The crossbowman wondered. "Since he's using Hunter's gear, he's sure to have it. Why do you ask?"

"Tell him to warn Daniel and try to get him to speak with Joshua. The White Legs are bringing a fucking army."

* * *

Author's Note: Finally, I have Artyom make contact with the Survivalist. However, I'd appreciate the review on my work. Sometimes, there are details that get overlooked since I'm focused on typing it down.

* * *

 **Aren serathy** : It's actually a Yao Guai.


	38. Chapter 38: The War for Zion

News of a White Legs war party was enough to stir tension and in the Sorrows camp. Once Artyom had given the news, he immediately turned it to those who knew what to do with this information. Joshua's and Daniel's silence did not comfort him before Joshua made a request to leave. After he left the cave, he could hear the two leaders arguing what to do.

On his way out, he found Stella walking up to him with her laser rifle in hand. "Jed saw you running to meet Joshua and the entire camp is up and about. Is there anything you can tell us?" She asked. "He really wants to get out of Zion as soon as possible. "I tried asking Waking Cloud about any fresh news, but she won't talk."

The Russian lifted the armored visor over his eyes. "The White Legs have a war party in Zion."

"Shit, the longer we wait here the less likely I'm about to get paid." With the news handed out, the caravan guard was quick to leave him be.

In the meantime, Artyom made his way deep into the camp just to find Cass concocting a strange liquid into the bottles. He surprised her when he sat on a log beside her. "What are you doing?" It was an innocent question, but he knew that there was more to the caravaneer than the naked eye.

She stole a quick glance from him and expressed a warm smile. "Moonshine." She answered. "Jed is not taking it too well and I don't blame him. Seeing as I used to be in charge of an entire caravan before it was a killed by neighborhood raiders, I was always worried about the expenses and my company's our odds of a likely payday. Now that I'm traveling with you, I don't have to worry about none of that shit."

"That is quite an interesting view." He answered. "Never thought you had an economical mind. You could have done well with Hansa if I hadn't gotten on their bad side."

Cass expressed a smile. "Do you really think so? I doubt they would let a woman in, especially if she has the potential of becoming a defenseless girl because of raiders."

"The thing is, Hansa does their best to earn its reputation of clearing out threats to their trading circle to get their payday. Plus, they supply the rest of the Metro with their goods. I heard from several merchants that it is expensive Hansa trading permits, but worth the investment." His stomach growled at him. "Are you hungry? I've got some Cram in my backpack."

"You're quite a gentleman to offer a woman her meal. Yes, I'll have some. It might go well with my drinks." She answered.

"Most of these cans came from the Sierra Madre when I was looking for you." He replied as he slipped off his backpack and revealed his contents towards the caravaneer. "Might as well get rid of them while I still can."

After she opened her can of cram, the caravaneer brought out a metal spoon in her hand. "Pre-war food. My dad told me that in the pre-war days food was preserved to a point that they couldn't spoil. Kinda made me wish we didn't bomb our world to hell." Cass commented.

"What a beautiful worlds we've destroyed." Then he reached out for a bottle of moonshine. "At least you still get fresh air." After he pulled the cork out, he reluctantly took a sip of the mysterious drink made by his friend. Unlike the moonshine he had tasted after he arrived in Riga, it's contents were far more stronger than he imagine. He swallowed the alcohol to feel the burning sensation throughout his lungs as he groaned at the painful feeling. "This stuff is strong. What did you put in here?"

"Enough."

"Enough?" Artyom wondered. "It feels like it's enough to kill me."

She laughed at his reaction as she opened her bottle. "Then you need to have mutation that lets you down an entire bottle. I'm not going to be with a man who can't hold his drink."

"Yet, here you are."

"Shut up." Then Cass began to raise her head before she started to consume her drink. The levels of volume slowly flowing into her body. However, the stalker noticed the warm hue of red on her cheeks. After she finished the bottle, the woman gasped for air while she swiped the remains off her lips. "That's some good stuff."

"You look pretty when you drink." He commented.

Her gaze fell upon him with a smile. "If it had been anybody else, I you would be eating my fist down your throat."

Before he had the chance to talk, his radio sprang to life with Tomilin's voice crying out. "Anybody out there, we need assistance right now. White Legs are making their way towards our positions at the top of the island. Fuckers are pushing forward!"

Then he glanced at his friend before he immediately reached for his makeshift pneumatic weapon. "I have to go."

The caravaneer tried to get up, but stumbled back into the ground as she shook her head. "Let me come with you. I don't want to get killed all by yourself."

"You just drank an entire bottle of moonshine." Artyom replied. "You're not exactly capable of moving about."

The woman gave him a soft punch. "Unlike you, it takes more than a simple bottle of moonshine to kick my ass."

He rolled his eyes as he helped Cass up from the ground and made his way towards the exit.

* * *

Joshua was irritated by his friend's staunch stance against the Sorrows Tribe's chance at fighting the White Legs. "Daniel, they need to fight." He began as he gripped his hands. "Zion is their home."

Yet, the missionary across the fire pit had retained his firm belief the last time they spoke. "We don't need to fight. The Sorrows do not deserve to be caught up in our war against the White Legs. How much bloodshed are you willing to spill for your desire of vengeance?"

The leader of the Dead Horses raised his eyebrows at Daniel's jab at his past. It was something he never truly wanted to speak of, but time was of the essence. He needed to convince his friend that this was beyond simple revenge. There was both a spiritual - and recently - a practical reason for them to stay and fight. "They have to fight. This place, it is their home, but more than that. Zion is their birthright."

Daniel was expressed a confused face with his eyes raised. "Birthright? Joshua, what are you even talking about? This is oddly strange of you to speak of."

"As much as I want vengeance against the White Legs, Artyom has revealed to me that the Sorrows have more reason to fight for this place than any of us. He has explored the places that the tribe considers a taboo; however, his discoveries have revealed that the 'Father of the Caves' is real and he desired Zion to be their home." The Malpais Legate explained in great detail. It might have appeared to be too much for his friend to take in, but time was of the essence. The more they spent their time arguing, the more likely the White Legs would initiate an attack on Dead Horses and by extension - the Sorrows.

"What you're telling me is that one of those travelers took the chance to explore those caves?" He asked. "You and I both know that the Sorrows are superstitious when it comes to exploring them. Where is the evidence of their birthright? Is it so important that they must sacrifice their innocence just to protect what is theirs?"

Joshua grit his teeth behind his bandages. Daniel was still firm in his belief that the Sorrows could leave and live another day. However, the past of the White Legs driving the New Canaanites into extinction became his reminder. "Yes. Even if you safely bring the Sorrows out of Zion, what will you think the White Legs will do? They will desecrate it with their barbaric ways and will move on to the next place they want. You and I both know that they can only sustain on the suffering of others, let us break them here. It is crucial that those… animals learn the wrath of God."

"You're doing it again." Daniel commented when he crossed his arms. "You are justifying blood in God's name just to sate your own desires. Look at yourself, we don't have to let another tribe die on our hands, we can't. No more bloodshed."

"The White Legs will continue killing us until there is none left." Joshua replied. "Caesar intends to let them into the Legion as soon as they kill all of us and the last traces of the tribes we have worked with. Blood was already spilt as soon as I became a reminder of his failures."

Footsteps entered the small war chamber as the war chief of the Dead Horses noticed a bald woman approach the missionary with a hateful gaze in her eyes. "You lied to me!" She shouted to the top of her lungs before she struck him with the palm of her hand. As Daniel rubbed the pain away, he stood up and confronted the woman. "You kept the news of my husband's death away from me. Why?" Tears began to flow from her eyes. "Why?!"

Then Daniel took off his hat and lowered his head in shame. "Waking Cloud, I needed you to help organize the tribe to leave Zion in case the White Legs force us. Telling you about your husband's death would affect your judgeme-"

She interrupted him with her cries. "What right did you have to keep him away from me?! That matter was none of your concern. You may be a friend of the Sorrows, but I trusted you of all foreigners to tell me the truth."

"I did it for the good of your people?"

"Yet, you've betrayed me." After Waking Cloud had finished her words of fury on the missionary, she ran off and out of the war room chambers with Daniel looking down at the fire in shame.

A great sigh escaped from him as he closed his eyes, but Joshua grew concerned about his situation with the Sorrows. "Are you alright?" The Burned Man questioned.

He shook his head with a sorrowful tone. "I did it for the good of her people."

"Indeed, I am certain that you have the intent to do good on the Sorrows behalf. It is one of many things God wants us to do in life." He stated.

"Do you have any advice on how to help me console Waking Cloud?" Daniel wondered.

A small chuckle escaped from behind his layers of bandages. "You know me. My expertise is in the matters of war."

"Indeed it is." He replied. "I am going to be moving the Sorrows soon. Could the Dead Horses clear the way at the very least? I think fighting for Zion has taken away one too many people."

"Are you sure?" The Burned Man asked. "This is not an easy decision."

"Thanks to the help of the Russians, we've been able to solve several of the problems along the way. They were quite handy in going into the caves to deal with the Yao Guai. I'm also sure that the trader south of here is itching to get out. At the very least, he'll be content to leave this place behind." Daniel explained his reasoning in great detail. "Yes, I've thought about this decision and I intend to go through with it."

Joshua nodded his head as he placed his grip on the missionary's shoulder. "Old friend, I'll do what I can. Follows-Chalk will lead a group of scouts and do his best to make the road safe. I do pray that somehow, you've made the right decision."

A smile was all he could offer. "To protect the Sorrows, I will."

* * *

The island surrounded in the center of Zion was now filled with more patrols of Dead Horsemen and White Legs killing each other in droves. Artyom and Cass continued bypass most of the fighting as they made their way towards one of the ranger stations planted on the hill. The stalker drew his assault rifle and continued to press up the hill to see the bodies of White Legs lying in droves. The carnage of the fighting had intensified with even the corpses of the wildlife nearby. He continued to press forward and managed to trudge through the bodies, but he saw one of the Polis Rangers at the summit. "Tomilin called me and I came here as quick as possible." Artyom began.

The Polis Ranger pointed his finger towards the top of the tower. "Tomilin is up there. You should have seen what had happened earlier. The savages were coming in droves. We were lucky enough that the fuckers broke off the attack when the Dead Horses came."

"Spasibo, I hope we can solve that problem." The stalker replied as he walked past the Ranger while he was accompanied by the caravaneer. He looked around and began to notice the tired soldiers on guard or even resting their backs against the stone walls. After moving up the stairs, Artyom found the soldier looking out the windows with his binoculars. "Tomilin? You called?"

His attention was not changed when he spoke. "Da, come here."

He stepped forward to be given the binoculars before the Polis Ranger pointed the general direction of what he was looking at. Upon closer inspection, the young man found himself busy trying to locate the enemy, but it was easy to locate small groups of White Legs taking a drink of the river's water. "That's the enemy." He said at the obvious sight.

"It's also where the rest of the White Leg vanguard have retreated after the Dead Horses helped us out." The Ranger replied.

Then Cass spoke up. "So at this point, it's also where they set up an encampment since you pushed them back."

"On point, but one of the Dead Horses explained to me that the White Legs usually prepare themselves for battle by dancing around these war totems. If we had destroyed them, it might ruin whatever potential attacks on our location." Then he glanced below to see his fellow Rangers resting. "However, they're all worn out. Artyom, this is not something I don't think anybody would be willing to do, but could you destroy those totems. It would make our lives far more easier."

"You're asking him to go on a suicide mission? What the hell is wrong with you?" The caravaneer demanded.

"If Hunter trusts Artyom with his equipment then I can at least trust him with a task." Tomilin answered before returning his full attention on the young man. "Look, just destroy them and run back to us. Avoid trying to fight the bastards."

Artyom nodded his head as he accepted the task. "I'll do it, but I'll wait till its night time."

The Ranger became confused. "Why?"

He reached for an item in his knapsack. "Night vision goggles. I have one and they don't. Makes everything easy if I'm lurking around in the night." Then he glanced towards his companion. "However, you'll have to stay."

Cass crossed her arms. "Stay, why should I?"

"It's quite hard to sneak around when somebody smells of alcohol." The Russian answered.

"Why you hurt me like this?" She wondered. "Fine, I'll be staying right here, but you better come back to me when you're done."

* * *

When darkness came, Artyom fully embraced it when he adorned the night vision goggles. Due to its advanced technology compared to his torchlight, he had to keep an eye on the battery life and focus on charging it when the surrounding area isn't infested with enemies. As he crept through the wild land of Zion, the Russian approached a small ridge overlooking the entire area. The position gave him the full view of what was below.

On his right, there was a camp full of White Legs, most of whom were sleeping comfortably on their makeshift beds. His gaze looked closer and began to notice most of their 'valuables' consisted worthless junk that they brought with them. Worst of all, he could smell their stench as they spoke in their strange tongue. While he could avoid their lack of hygiene with his gas mask, his breathing would reveal his position even with the shadows on his side. There was a thought of killing them from this point, but Artyom fought against the idea as he came for his true objective.

The stalker turned his watchful eye towards his left, only to see the war totems further away from the camp. As to why their people did this, he would never ask. Thankfully, there was only one White Leg on guard as he crossed his arms with his strange sword-like weapon in hand made out of junk. It was good that he was alone guarding the war totems. What made the situation even better was the simple fact that they were not wearing any proper body armor on their person.

Artyom backtracked from the high point as he snuck his way between the camp and their war totems. His assault rifle needed a rest while the young man drew his makeshift silenced weapon - the Tihar off of his back. He had some experience using this weapon before, but knew that it required patience to use. This weapon could never have the firepower of the assault rifle; however, the silence was where the true strength lied. His arm started pumping air while he watched the pressure measurements increasing with each pull of the lever.

By the time the red indicator had reached its maximum limit, the young man quietly approached the lonely sentry as he lined up his sights. When his weapon matched with the target's head, he pulled the trigger and heard a quick puff of air escape before the White Leg guard slumped to the ground. As blood soaked the dirt, Artyom was quick to drag all of the war totems in one spot with his sticky grenades implanted into the weak signposts and imagery the savages used to build their morale support.

He pulled out his bullet lighter and was about to light off the fuses, but then he heard footsteps approaching the war totems. The foreign tongue of the curious White Leg had made him stop in his tracks while he looked past the objectives to see a woman look around. A woman was walking away from the camp, but she seemed to be calling out a name. Was it the guard he just killed? For some strange reason, he felt a pang of guilt in his heart. Perhaps he could have knocked him out when Artyom had the chance, but what was done is done. All he had to to do was wait as the woman stepped closer.

The young man realized what he had forgotten to do. The man's body was still there. When her foot smacked into his body, she was quick to shout to the others. "Chyort." He quietly whispered to himself as he sparked the small flame from his lighter and ignited the fuses. After putting it away, he ran for his life. There was a loud commotion that came after him while sprinted towards his only safety, the river. Gunfire chased him while he occasionally looked over his shoulder to see the alerted White Legs double.

An explosion erupted from the totems, killing those in their path, but it was not enough to stop them.

Artyom ran towards the end of a broken dock and dived deep into the river. While he began to hold his breath and sweep away from the enemy, his ears could hear their bullets penetrate the water. Despite all of their effort, the young man continued to swim away in the deep end and reach the shores of the small island in the center of the Zion. Another matter swiftly dealt with.

* * *

In the days after the destruction of the war totems, the White Legs were demoralized. Which gave the Dead Horses the opportunity to strike. Enemy patrols would be found dead by the time their reinforcements discovered their remains and the head planted on a pike. The killing was almost endless in sight, but that did not mean the White Legs were weak. No, they intended on something far more sinister.

From the surviving prisoners, the White Legs desired to regain the initiative by drawing the Dead Horses and by extension - Joshua Graham out. In the wake of the ambush, there was a massacre, but it was not the Dead Horses who became casualties of war. Instead, it was the Daniel, the Sorrows tribe, and the surviving members of the caravan. In their attempt to leave Zion, Daniel was wounded while the Sorrows tribe were caught in a conflict that was no longer theirs. No mercy was given to those who caught in the trap. The caravan led by Jed Masterson, were the first to die alongside the Sorrows.

All was not lost as the Dead Horses, the Polis Rangers, and Artyom were quick to come to their aid - saving the tribe from complete destruction. Daniel's insistence on trying to keep the Sorrows out of the tribe was met with quick hostilities by the people he wanted to save. That moment had passed after the slaughter, when the Sorrows demanded blood against their aggressors. The missionary did his best to avoid more bloodshed, but his words fell on deaf ears.

Yet, the Sorrows were not the only ones who had suffered. Four out of the seven Polis Rangers were killed in action as they tried their best to protect the tribals. The war became personal for Tomilin and the last surviving men before they buried the fallen six feet under. This motivation to kill the White Legs had given Joshua Graham enough war support to go on the offensive.

Wrath and fury had filled Zion into this unhealthy atmosphere for the human mind. While the Dead Horses descended onto the White Legs, Artyom and Cass found themselves going into battle with Joshua Graham, the Malpais Legate of the Legion. They entered the narrow canyon as Joshua drew out his pistol from his holster as he walked into the valley of death. "The Dead Horses and the Sorrows have advanced ahead of us, but remain cautious." The leader of one of the savage tribes advised. "We might have stragglers who have hid from God's will."

Cass loaded up her four-barrelled shotgun and stepped forward. "You seem to invoke God in a lot of your sayings."

"I know those monsters." He replied. "The White Legs are a tribe that knows only war and have desecrated god's holy ground - my home. It is time they faced Canaanite wrath."

"Ah, so this is personal?"

"Yes."

Artyom looked to his right to see an empty camp while the Dead Horses brought out their prisoners and executed them. Whether it be by the bullets from their guns or the weight of their blunt weapons, they died in cold blood. The deeper the young man continued into the the canyon, the more gunfire he heard and the wailing of the surrendering White Legs.

The trio walked past an archway, only to knocked forth by the the explosion behind them. The young Russian looked behind to see Cass floating in the water. However, he saw a boulder slowing descend upon her. He was quick to reach out for her collar and drag her away from where it was landing. When it landed, water splashed into his face as he heard gunfire from the front.

Joshua Graham was quick to reply with his sidearm. "It's a trap, get into the battle."

Artyom swiped the water from his face while Cass brought her Duplet and fired upon the dozens of White Leg soldiers charging from a single cave. At the same time, Joshua strode forth with his pistol out while he began speaking verses. With the fighting starting, he brought out his assault rifle and pulled down the trigger.

Due to the lack of armor, the White Legs were easily cut down in droves. Those that charged with claws and makeshift swords did not last. However, three White Legs did run out of the cave, but Artyom could see their faces. There was something terrifying that drove them at as they spoke their foreign language.

Out from the caves came a lone figure in his trench coat. This appearance of somebody who should have stayed dead had surprised the stalker as he raised his rifle and opened up on the surrendering savages. When the deed was done, the green eyes of his mask turned towards them and gave them a quick salute before he walked back into the shadows. "Randall, what are you doing here?"

"Who?" Joshua asked while he emptied out his magazine for a new one.

"Randall Clark, he's the father of the caves… and we just watched him kill those three White Legs. He should be dead."

The leader of the Dead Horses looked back at the cave and remained silent. "Even the restless spirits are offended by the presence of the White Legs. Let's continue, perhaps his spirit will help us when we need it the most."

Then the caravaneer spoke out the situation. "The best thing we should do is go forward. I have a feeling that cave is clear if the White Legs were running from a ghost."

The trio were quick to enter the cave while Artyom lowered his helmet's visor and waited for the worse the cave could offer. As Artyom and Cass turned on their flashlights in the darkness, the only sight they found were more bodies of the White Legs littered across the floor. The stalker reached down to grab one of the bullet casings, only to see the numbers twelve-point-seven millimeters written on the side of the bullets. There was one weapon he salvaged from the caves, a rifle that used the exact kind of ammunition.

After a long trek through the caves full of fallen White Legs, Joshua led the group out into the sunlight, only to witness a battle unfold below them. Many from the Sorrows and the Dead Horses were being led by the Polis Rangers as they fought up a hill occupied by the savages. However, they looked below to see the White Legs were exactly underneath their position. "Let's provide support for our allies below." He suggested as he slung his sub-machine gun off of his back. Cass was quick to switch out her shotgun for her automatic rifle Artyom had given her before.

A moment of silence came with Artyom looking through his weapon's sights, before he pulled the trigger. One of the savages was struck down, but the others were quick to notice their position. Soon after, Joshua and Cass unleashed their firepower upon the exposed White Legs, giving the Dead Horses and the Sorrows enough time to push forward. As they reached the camp, close-quarters fighting erupted as the Dead Horses brought down their war clubs before the White Legs replied with poisonous claws.

When the two sides clashed into each other, Joshua was the first to make his way down the cliffside. "Follow me, we must find the war chief of the White Legs."

"Why?" Artyom asked.

"The fighting will end with him."

* * *

The battle was over when the trio had arrived at the camp of the White Legs. Their leader was brought forth in humiliation while the survivors of his tribe watched closely. The Dead Horses and the Sorrows cheered in excitement as they celebrated their victory in the face of the White Legs. The two Dead Horses who locked his hands behind his back had brought him before the war chief of their tribe - Joshua Graham. Underneath his face mask, he looked up and began to plead for mercy. "You no kill, White Leg leave you alone!"

The Russians and the caravaneer watched from the sidelines as Tomilin injected morphine into his system. "Finally, we can leave without these bastards in the way." Out from his pockets came a pack of cigarettes. "Anybody want some?" The two other Rangers beside him were quick to light their tips and enjoy what seemed to be a victory.

Artyom declined the offer when Tomilin's pack came around to him. It didn't feel like victory. What was supposed to be a moment of triumph felt like an ugly matter that could be compared to the cigarette smoke in the air. Everything about this moment felt wrong, but the young man watched as Joshua approached him. "We warned you when we first met. Your tribe took advantage of us at New Canaan and now you've dared to attack the Sorrows and most importantly - my friend. Your transgressions has gone long enough. I will see to it that you will pay for all of those you have killed. What say you - Salt-Upon-Wounds?" The Burned Man asked as he leaned forward to meet his foe face-to-face.

The leader of the White Legs struggled out of his bonds and tried to scoot away from him. Yet, his captors were not unwilling to let him leave out of Joshua's grasp. Many cheered at Salt-Upon-Wounds' coming fate while Cass expressed her opinion upon the matter. "Come on, just shoot the bastard."

There was an uneasiness for the stalker as he waited for the execution; however, the voices of the Dark Ones had come. This time, the creatures brought him the conviction he needed to accept what was going on. 'Spare him…' They said. 'No longer a threat… He will face consequences… Later…'

When Joshua pulled out his sidearm, he began to load it in front of his would-be victim. "You will pay for what they did to him." Yet, this moment allowed an opportunity for the stalker to walk out from the sidelines and into attention of the crowd.

Behind Artyom's back, he could hear Cass call out to him, but he would have to ignore her for a moment. As his boots crunched against the dirt, Joshua paused reloading his weapon as he straightened himself to find the Russian walking in his general direction. He was going in blind and with a large chance to embarrass himself in front of dozens of people. It might have been acceptable in Exhibition, but he was no longer in the Metro. A moment of silence was present while the young man quickly grabbed any words that could make a coherent sentence on the spot. "Do not kill him." Artyom stated.

Even though the Burned Man's head was wrapped in bandages, his eyebrows were raised while the eyes contained a wrathful rage within him. "What?" He asked stonely. "Why should I spare this thing… this animal? Mercy does not belong with his kind, only death will absolve him of his crimes and that requires me to send him to God." Joshua stated while pointing his pistol at Salt-Upon-Wounds head.

"Look around you." The Russian said as he gestured around the camp. "The White Legs are defeated, what more do you want out of them?"

"Vengeance." Unlike Artyom's previous encounter with the Malpais Legate, he was far more bloodthirsty than before. "He killed my family. He almost killed Daniel and has killed members of the Sorrows."

"Is it God's wrath or are you just using that excuse to kill him?" He asked.

Behind his back, he could hear Tomilin intervene on their conversation. "That's enough. Let the man-"

Joshua raised his hand to stop the Polis Ranger mid-sentence. "No, do not break up this conversation of ours." Then he took one long step to confront the stalker. "This is a dog of the Legion. He will not stop until he satisfies Caesar with our destruction."

Memories of Artyom's first encounter with Joshua Graham had came into mind. He was a result of something that Caesar could not abide as he chose his next words carefully. "Render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's, and unto God the things that are God's."

The Burned Man raised his eyes. "I do not understand what you are implying."

"What did Caesar do to you when you failed him at the First Battle of Hoover Dam?" Came his question.

The rage in his voice had faded back into his reserved tone. "Edward… he punished me. Are you suggesting that you send this creature back to him with this defeat?"

He nodded his head. "Let this… man," Artyom truly did not desire to use that word on someone like him. "become Caesar's problem and let God sort him out afterwards. From what I've seen, he doesn't appear to have the will such as yours."

Joshua stole a glance from Salt-Upon-Wounds before he reluctantly holstered his weapon. "Very well then, release him." Several of the Dead Horses became confused before they slowly released the savage out of his bonds. "Your cry for mercy has been accepted. Now leave Zion and never return. If your mind cannot comprehend such a request then I will be the first to remind you without question."

Although his helmet was in the way, Salt-Upon-Wounds' wimpers were enough to express his fear. The barbarian was quick to leave the crowd that surrounded him while those of his tribe were given a moment of mercy from their captors. The defeated foes lowered their heads in shame, grabbing only their melee weapons while their technologically superior ones were left behind. Artyom and Joshua watched as their twisted hairs left the camp with little gain from this endeavor into the 'Land of God'.

"Artyom, even though your request denied me what I desired the most, it is a welcomed one. Perhaps God himself will be the one to strike down on his kind instead of myself. After all, the Lord works in mysterious ways." Then he turned his full attention on young man. "When did you learn scripture?"

The young man smiled at the question. "A long time ago, there was once priest in Exhibition. My step-father wanted me to learn from the Bible, but he always took it with him everywhere he went. The last time I saw him was when he fought alongside the Marines when my station was attacked. He was never seen again. Out of all of things I can remember from the pages, it was that one."

"I see." He paused for a moment as he placed his hands on his belt. "With the threat of the White Legs now over with, I believe you and your companions deserve the reward of our guides. Come, we have work to do."

* * *

When slumber came, the dream state had returned as Artyom sat up from his seat to find Randall Clark looking down on him. "Thanks for helping out those people. I appreciate what you did there."

The stalker wiped his face and stared at the ghostly figure with one question in mind. "How did you help us out during the battle? You should be dead."

The man shrugged his shoulders. "I'm a ghost, remember? I think when I saw the descendants of those kids being killed by the damn barbarians, my anger was enough to bring me back to reality. That's my only explanation, but I don't think it will matter much now that you're going to New Vegas."

"What will you do?" Artyom wondered with full curiosity.

"Do what I do best, keep an eye out on my kids." Then he fell to one knee and knelt beside him. "Though your dark-skinned mutant family came by to show me something. It isn't pretty, but I know one thing for sure when you get down south."

"What is it?"

"Watch your six in New Vegas. Everyone has a gun behind their back. I hope you checked your vigor tester, you're going to need it."

* * *

Author's Note: Now that Honest Hearts is now over with, I can finally bring the protagonist back to the Mojave.


	39. Chapter 39: Vacation and Promotion

A well-dressed man sat alone in the cafe with his newspaper out while he reached for his mug. After washing down his throat with the warm sensation to keep him awake, the old man stroked his beard with his gaze reading the newest topic at hand.

News of the Russians had reached the political steps of Shady Sands. Army officers questioned whether they were a threat to the New California Republic, scientists began to conjecture about the lost knowledge that was erased in the past, and brahmin barons started writing up the number of expenses to travel to the Mojave just to trade. For good or for bad, the arrival of the foreigners had stirred the capital to life. There were so many questions that people had about them.

While the politician had been busy reading his morning away, there was a commotion of people gathering around the bar. The NCR still had people who were illiterate and the only way news could be passed around was through radio. It wasn't as bad as the old times, but he hoped that the NCR could have the funds to support their education. After all, he hated the idea of a functioning democracy where a fraction of the populace didn't know how to read.

A waiter came over to his table with a fresh batch of coffee waiting for him. "Mr. Richmond, would you like to have more coffee?"

He smiled as he moved his mug closer to the edge. "Yes please." Perhaps more black coffee couldn't hurt. It was still an hour before he had to go back to work.

"Senator, is there anything going on that may be worth sharing to the rest of us?" The blonde asked while hot coffee poured away.

"Lizzie, you know I can't do that. President Kimball would have my head for that." Politics was just as messy as a radscorpion in a deathclaw cave. "Are you still worried about Jim?" At the mere mention his name, the woman's smile had faltered before she nodded her head in confirmation. "I'll see what I can do since I'm also looking for someone in the Mojave."

Her mood brightened. "Really? You can do that?"

A chuckle escaped from his lips. "In my line of work, you tend to learn a thing or two on the side."

"Thank you." She replied as she walked away from the older man.

Senator Richmond looked out the windows with the sun rising over the city. He had been afraid of the Mojave and how it was seen as a net drain for the republic due to how far it was from any major logistical point. After the destruction of the Hopeful garrison in the Divide, the situation had turned sour. Yet, the arrival of the foreigners have turned things in the NCR's favor. Giving the old man the chance to avenge that garrison for a far more personal reason.

* * *

After the departure of Zion, Artyom and Cass were given enough supplies to make their way back to the Mojave. Yet, they also carried more than they expected. The Sorrows rewarded the stalker with what was supposed to be their inheritance, but since he helped them defeat the White Legs and reveal their belongings they had given it to him out of gratitude. It was strange that he would earn such an elevated status amongst their tribe. Even the former Legion commander - Joshua Graham - had given him a reward for his help against those who did him wrong. There was more weapons than what the young man could imagined to be carrying, but he refused to let Cass carry such a burden since she took in the belongings of the Happy Trails Caravan.

News of their death had taken a toll over her and Artyom knew such a silence. The caravaneer was coping with the loss of what could have been a good friend. Maybe they knew one-another in their line of work. There was his curiosity to ask how much she knew about Jed, but it would be rude to ask and he couldn't blame her. Such was life in this cold and harsh world.

They traveled on a lonely road to the south as they stumbled across small buildings and shacks in the distance. The Russian didn't have to look far to see the shining lights of a city underneath the sunlight. Aside from the small towns and hamlets he had come across in the wasteland, that place looked lived in. Artyom recalled the pictures of how cities were filled with thousands of people making their way from one place to another. Moscow could never repeat such a feat with it's poisonous air and mutated wildlife, but such a sight would become a reality as the duo continued to travel through a road underneath a highway in disrepair.

The closer Artyom walked towards the gates, the less that Cass appeared to be enthusiastic about going inside. When his walking pace surpassed his companion, the stalker looked around to see her stop in the middle of the road. Her eyes were filled with sorrow as she turned her head away from the path to a group of burnt ashes off-road. "Is there something wrong?" He genuinely asked. She had never expressed this strange side of her before.

A small sigh was all that could come up before she pulled out a bottle of moonshine in her hand. "One of my caravans was hit alongside this very road by raiders." The woman replied. "Before we go into the city to throw all of our money away, I want to pay my respects. It's the last thing I can do."

He thought about it for a moment, but Artyom understood that he would do the same if he was going to pay his respects to those who have died. "Yes, I can wait. Spend as much time as you need."

There was a small smile coming from his friend. "Thanks. I won't take too much. It's not like the raiders left anything behind."

Soon after, the duo walked over the ashes to see a brahmin fallen over with its pack spilling out. Yet, there was nothing, but scorch marks that appeared to have intentional. If something terrible had happened here, where was the bodies? As Cass took off her hat, Artyom began to investigate the surrounding area as he noted a depression on the side of the road. It was deep enough that it could provide enough cover for a squad to ambush several merchants all by themselves. Any smart bandit would use this for cover, especially if a merchant hired some guards to protect the merchant.

He walked near the edge of the dip, making sure he didn't slip into the ditch full of ashes. When he continued to survey the area, he noticed an unmoving body who was resting against the dirt. Unlike the rest of the scene, this was the only body aside from the dead brahmin. "Cass? Is he one of your caravan guards?"

The Rose of Sharon Cassidy made her way from the scene and stood beside the Russian. "That can't be. All of my caravans that have been hit don't leave bodies behind." Then she slipped into the ditch and approached the body on the ground. "Let me get a closer look." Cass knelt onto the ground and turned the body over, revealing a strange set of armor on the dead bald man's body with a strange weapon in his grip. However, Artyom believed he had seen that before by another person he came across. "He isn't a caravan guard. That armor, it belongs to the Van Graffs."

What did that mean then? "Who?"

She stole a glance from him as she pulled out her four-barrelled shotgun. "They're a business that specializes in selling energy weapons. If one of the bodies is here, then they're the ones responsible for all those attacks on my caravans."

"How do you know? It could be just coincidence that his body is lying here."

"Energy weapons have a tendency to burn things they touch or turn their targets into ash." Cass explained. "I don't know the science behind them, but I do know the Van Graffs are the only ones capable of doing this. They get away with shit like this."

"You're on bad terms with them?"

She shook her head. "Not really, the only time they do this is against competition." Cass answered. "Especially against other sellers who have energy weapons."

Artyom became very worried when she started loading her shotgun shells. "What are you doing?"

There was a small pause from her as she got her weapon ready. "I'm going to kill them." Then she stormed off towards the gates of New Vegas.

The way she acted was not normal for her. It was something Artyom didn't expect for her to do. Was that caravan so personal? He chased after her, worried about her well-being. "Cass, wait up!"

Although he was tired, he did not want his friend to recklessly die at the hands of these so-called 'Van Graffs'. He ran as soon as he could, watching the city's walls become clearly to see. The lights of the city were bright and vivid - a stark contrast to barren wasteland which the stalker was familiar with. By the time he reached the city's gates, Cass's figure was lost in the sea of people who entered and left as they pleased.

Upon his arrival in New Vegas, he noticed several young gathering in a circle on his right. When he walked through the gates, they turned their full attention on his person. Their gazes looked down on him, but one of them walked up to him as people bumped into him. A dark-skinned man had approached him with his arms crossed. "You seem new here. Welcome to Freeside, where a man is free to do whatever he wants whatever he likes, but do remember this - Freeside is ruled by the Kings. We run the show around these parts. You hear me?"

Artyom slowly nodded his head. It was not the first time he had encountered a such shady people, but things were different here. Better to be on good terms with the locals than test their patience. "Loud and clear. Freeside is ruled by the Kings."

The gang member moved his head in approval. "Good. If you want to have fun with some whores go to the Atomic Wrangler. Then go to the Old Mormon Fort to help you with your hangover."

"Thank you, but I'm looking for someone. Did you see a girl in orange and black armor along with a hat."

"Yeah," His finger pointed towards the gates which lead deeper into the city. "She went straight there. Hope you find her."

Without any hesitation, he pressed onward. The streets were busy with visitors and locals walking between the local shops and venders that were around. Prostitutes wore revealing clothes as they sold themselves to potential customers whom they could satisfy. People sat alongside the sidewalks as they injected needles into their systems. Everything about this place was… wrong. Were people this desperate for entertainment? To escape from their normal lives just to enjoy the fine delights in life, even if it was for a moment. All he could do was pity them as he searched for his friend in the streets.

The young man passed through the second set of city gates, only to be invited by the local businesses. On his left was a building that had neon lights turned on - the home of the Kings. When he turned to his right, there was a side street which lead to another block of businesses trying to advertise themselves to the common man. However, he saw a familiar face sticking to a corner of an alley and peek her head over to the corner store with an armored man carrying a plasma gun in his hand. Yet, she seemed to be stalking her prey as she began to load shotgun shells into the barrel of her weapon.

In any other case, she would have noticed him, but the commotion of the surrounding crowds and their numbers had allowed him to sneak up on her. "He looks well-armed." She turned around while bringing her four-barrelled Duplet to bear. Had the caravaneer not hold back, his body would have been blasted away. "Cass, it's me!" Artyom stated with his hands out.

Her nose expressed a long sigh as she leaned back against the brick wall. "You shouldn't have snuck up like that. I could have killed you."

"True, but you didn't."

Then she shook her head. "Artyom, let me have this moment. I need this. The Van Graffs need to know that the Rose of Sharon Cassidy is somebody you don't fuck with."

"Yes, but perhaps there is a better alternative than throwing your life away."

"Like what?" She demanded. "The Van Graffs play dirty and I should do the same as well. I'm going to fight fire with fire."

"Have you ever thought of planning it out?" Artyom wondered. "There might be other ways to get after them for what they did."

"Look, I've spent most of my life traveling with caravans with shotgun and dynamite in hand. Do you really think some energy weapons are going to stop me?"

"No, but it will certainly make things harder. After all, you're just only one person."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

The young man thought about the situation. "I'm not knowledgeable about businesses, but why don't you bring this to some authorities?"

"Artyom, I like you, but NCR bureaucracy is slow as a brahmin on his ass."

"How about we think about it over a drink? Maybe we'll think of something productive."

Cass chuckled at his idea. "Alright, I'll bite." Then the expression on her face changed someone caught her eye. "Holy shit, is that who I think it is?"

He turned around, only to find two familiar faces from a journey to save several people from the Sierra Madre. A blonde woman in a blue jumpsuit was leaning on one leg with a hand on her hips. The plasma gun in hand was obvious as the red stars on her companion accompanying her. "Angelique, Pavel? It's good to see you!"

The Courier gave off a warm smile. "Good to see that both of you are alive."

"Where is Veronica and Christine?" The caravaneer wondered.

"We went our separate ways." Pavel answered. "Veronica wanted to bring her back to her family, so it was better for both of us to simply go on. Shit, I'm glad to see that both of you are alive. I'm noticing that you're carrying more than the last time I remembered."

Artyom nodded his head with a smile. "It's a long story."

Angelique lifted her plasma gun and rested it on her shoulders. "Then we can talk about it over some drinks. Let's get into the Strip and be on our merry way. Besides, we're one step closer to dealing with the asshole who shot me in the head."

When the group was past the gates full of armed robotic guards, the level of poverty and wealth between the two parts of the city was like night and day. Unlike the poor and the downtrodden in the streets of Freeside, those who walked in the streets had worn fine clothes on their person. Yet, there was a surprise that Pavel Morozov pointed out. "That is odd. There seems to be a lot of NCR soldiers around these parts. How come?"

Angelique was quick to speak. "Yeah, the republic tends to rotate their troops out by sending them over to the Strip to spend their pay away. Not the best thing to throw money away, but it's better to relieve their stress."

Before they could even approach one of the many luxurious casinos, a robotic machine approached the party with a smiling face of a cowboy. Although it moved on a single wheel, Artyom was surprised at the sophisticated design that allowed the machine to remain balanced. "Howdy partners, I see y'all managed to get in without any trouble."

"Victor, it's good to see a friendly face around these parts. The last time we met was at Goodsprings."

"Indeed, it's good to see you and that Ruskie fellow are still alive."

"Who is the Ruskie fellow?" Artyom asked.

"You silly." Victor answered. "I was the one who dug you out from the grave. You should thank Doc Mitchell for keeping your bodies together."

Then the Courier stepped forward to talk with 'him'. "Now that you're here, what are you going to do?"

A slight chuckle escaped from the robot. "All four of you have been invited to the Lucky 38 at the request of Mr. House."

"Mr. House? _The_ Mr. House?" She seemed to have been shocked by the name.

The robot began to confirm her suspicions. "Yes darling, Mr. House is my boss. He says he got a job of your particular skills."

"What in it for us?"

"Miss, this kind of business should be discussed inside. I think you will appreciate this more than anybody."

"How likely am I not going into a trap?" She asked.

"Mr. House is a man of his word. After all, you were carrying a package that wanted so badly."

Angelique crossed her arms. "Alright, introduce your boss to him."

Victor immediately turned around and rolled up the steps and into the doors of the Lucky 38. In the meantime, there were great doors that slide open and exposed their entrances to the world. Artyom watched as the passing bystanders had stopped in their tracks and turned to see the entrance. Their reactions expressed only one fate for him, something was going on and he didn't feel comfortable with it.

The courier took her first step, but the caravaneer voiced her opinion. "Are you sure we should follow him? It could be a trap."

She shook her head. "I don't know Cass. If he was the one receiving my package, then I would like some answers. Maybe he might tell what Artyom and I got ourselves into."

Pavel stole glances from the others. "We might as well see who this Mr. House is. Perhaps he is like the Wizard of Oz?"

"What the hell is the Wizard of Oz?"

He rolled his eyes. "I forgot, pre-war references. Not like any of you will figure it out."

"I do." Artyom commented.

"You don't count." Then the young man became disappointed.

Angelique lead the group as she clenched her fists. "Don't know about you guys, but I'm going in."

When the party were walking over the steps, the stalker couldn't help, but feel like he was being watched. There was something awful behind his back as the bystanders whispered to one-another about his party group making their way to the doors. It was like he was stepping into a situation where there was no turning back.

After entering the doors, Artyom was amazed at the sight he discovered. The roads in disrepair were nothing to the building's interior design. It was as if the bombs happened, but the people left their workplaces and did not create much of a mess. Years of seeing things in disrepair had become a norm, but to see the room in such pristine condition made him awe in wonder. Yet, the lack of life did catch his attention. The only 'living' fauna were the two machines that almost resembled Victor's frame; however, their faces were simply an image of a policeman staring at him.

Upon getting closer to the center of the room, the party was stopped by Victor at a elevator entrance. "While Mr. House does intend to see y'all, he only wants Angelique and the Ruskie who was shot in the head."

Cass stared at him. "Why?"

"My boss considers this business personal. As I understand, both of you will have to leave your friends and conduct business behind closed doors." He explained. "You should consider yourselves lucky that they were included in the invitation as well."

"So what do we do?" She asked. "Explore around."

"He's okay with that. As long as you don't burn down the building."

Pavel and Cass stole glances from one-another as he activated the elevator buttons.

"Alright you two, walk right on in. He's waiting for you."

After the elevator doors had opened, the courier and the stalker stepped inside as Artyom looked over his shoulder to see a worried communist and an uncomfortable caravaneer. He assured her with a warm smile before the elevator closed on him. As time passed by, nothing was said as the levels from the ground floor had begun to increase. Then he noticed Angelique eyeing something on his person. "Hey Artyom, where did you find that gun?"

He was confused for a few seconds, but then he remembered the weapon that was gifted to him by the war chief of the Dead Horses. "This pistol?" His hand pulled the weapon out of his holster as he inspected it before the courier. "It was gifted to me by a war chief."

"Really? You must have done something important to get that kind of attention." She replied. "Who was the war chief."

"Joshua Graham, better known by everyone as the Malpais Legate of Caesar's Legion." Artyom explained.

When he said the man's name, she was taken aback by his nonchalant statement. "Hold up, you met Joshua Graham in person?"

"Yes. He is quite a person to meet. Too religious for my liking, but he's a good guy."

"A good guy? He was fighting for Caesar's Legion. Do you have any idea how terrible he is?" Angelique wondered it was quite understandable that he was an outsider who did not know any better. "He fought for Caesar and anybody who fights for Caesar is some backwater savage."

He shook his head. "Joshua used to be for the Legion, but after Caesar had ordered the White Legs to hunt him down and eventually kill him, he does not share such a sentiment."

"He's still Legion. Nothing about that is ever going to change."

Artyom glanced at his pistol and slipped it back into his holster. "You would be surprised how much a man like him can change."

The elevator doors had slid open with another of those strange machines out to greet them. Unlike the cowboy robot that saw them off, this one carried the face of a smiling woman. The feminine synthetic voice spoke from its speakers. "Hello dears, Mr. House has been expecting you. Why don't you follow me downstairs and we'll see him face to face."

Angelique began to ask a question. "Who are you?"

"Why I am Jane - Mr. House's favorite girl. Don't give that look, I don't have the body, but I am the girl real-life girl." She answered. "Now follow me."

The duo stepped out of the elevator and followed after the robot. As they made their way down one level, Artyom could not help, but feel impressed at the sheer amount of electronic equipment that was present. Yet, the large screen at the center of it all was only expressing one message only.

'Connection Lost. . .'

Then the message disappeared and was immediately replaced by the image of a man's face staring back at them. His gaze was cold and emotionless, but the voice speakers were enough to tell that Mr. House had arrived. "Good afternoon, I hope your travel to New Vegas was… a pleasant one."

The Courier stood in her tracks and simply expressed her fill of excitement. "Holy shit, I'm talking to Mr. House himself. I am honored to be invited."

"Be honored. It has been two-hundred years since the Lucky 38 had any proper inhabitants. The invitation was not an option I was willing to use lightly." The man behind the screen answered. "Pleasantries aside, I believe both of us may work together and benefit the future. I am offering a job that can turn New Vegas into a rising star if both of you work for me and as a bonus - I am willing to let you terminate Benny yourselves."

"Benny? How the hell do you know about him?" Angelique asked.

"It is quite simple, really. Benny worked for me until his agenda worked against my vision of the future when he tried to put a bullet in both of you. Thankfully, Victor was there to ensure that you remained safe."

"Apparently, he failed in that job. I had to deal with a couple days worth of meds."

His voice expressed a long sigh. "Yes, I didn't intervene since he would figure out that I was watching him."

While the conversation continued about the man who shot the duo, Artyom looked around to see that this place was quite dusty and old. If what Mr. House said about this place was true then there was bound to be issues with the dust essentially everywhere - including the electrical equipment that was displayed before him. As his eyes searched for anything interesting, he noticed two robots standing on the duo's left flank. Then he glanced over to his right, but there was none to be in his way.

Everything about that moment was odd. Surely there would have been more guards in the surrounding area. Yet, they were oddly positioned underneath the set of stairs that led to the second floor. Unless there was something of importance that required several of these machines to be there. The stalker would have to make a mental note of that place as Mr. House grabbed his attention. "Young man, I know that you didn't deserve to be caught in this mess, but I would like to know why you're after Benny."

He quickly put his thoughts aside and returned to the matter at hand. "Benny stole what was mine - a Kalashnikov to be precise. It was a gift from a friend of mine and he took it away while I six-feet-under."

"Then that makes two of us. Benny stole from both of us. I think we can come into agreement and establish that our motivations have brought us together at this very moment. While both of you can walk in and gun him down, I prefer that you both of you find a moment to plan this matter out. Benny carries an object called the Platinum Chip and assaulting the Tops Casino will only give him enough time to escape from both of you. Yet, I do have several options which may interest you…"

* * *

Author's Note: I was honestly having trouble trying to get Artyom and Cass back into the Mojave, but sometimes a game of Crusader Kings 2 and Hearts of Iron IV can help out bring some writing will back into action. (I'm still new to the game)

* * *

 **Paladin Bailey** : As much as I admire the Desert Rangers, they will not be introduced into the fic as they have already been incorporated into the NCR Armed Forces to deal with Caesar's Legion. However, the next chapter does offer me some options regarding the Legion outpost in the south.

 **Aren Serathy** : Indeed it is.


	40. Chapter 40: Strapped to the Boot

Time had passed in the tower of the Lucky 38. There was an intricate level of planning by Mr. House, who gave Artyom and Angelique so many options in dealing with Benny. Artyom had to admit, he appreciate his assistance, but unlike Angelique, the only thing he wanted to take from Benny was his Kalashnikov. After that, his fate was free to be in Angelique's hands.

The most direct method of dealing with Benny was to literally draw their arms and immediately cause trouble. Although it appeared to have been an easy idea, Artyom understood that a few seconds of a firefight by his bodyguards and those loyal to him would give him enough time to escape.

Thankfully, there was additional options that could not possibly result in violence. Benny was likely to have bodyguards around him during his view of the casino; however, there was to be two plans that would be acted on. The courier would directly confront Benny in person and might optionally seduce him to his room or bring him someplace 'safe' where they could do business behind closed doors. If things didn't go well and somehow Angelique was dead, he would be the backup plan to get his Kalashnikov out and hand Mr. House what was owed to him.

His head hurt of these elaborate plans, but he could not help and admire the work into it. Plans were necessary for situations like this and to go without any was complete suicide. The young man found himself asking for a cup of mushroom tea; however, he would never have the opportunity as he was going to participate in the young woman's dark intentions.

When the elevator opened, they were back on the bottom level to find Pavel looking through his bags while Cass was sitting in a chair - sipping bottles of whiskey. "You two definitely took your sweet time. How was your first meeting with House?" She asked before taking in the last drops.

Artyom placed his gear into the elevator. "Angelique and I have some unfinished business with the man who shot us. We'll take care of your Van Graffs after I deal with him."

"It looks like I'm going to stay at the Atomic Wrangler for a couple of days, but I don't know if I have enough bottlecaps."

Then the securitron beside the elevator controls had spoken. "Mr. House has sent me a message that he has given your companions permission to use the Lucky 38's presidential suite. No need to walk all of that way into Freeside and it's free with no charge."

Cass raised her eyebrows in surprise. "That's a blessing. I didn't think I'd get the opportunity to wait around in a fancy casino."

Victor's synthetic voice had released a chuckle. "Mr. House always gets the best."

"Alright, I'll be in the suite. Maybe we can properly put away our loot somewhere safe."

The communist officer stood up from his seat. "I share the sentiment. Got to find a place to put all of this gold."

Angelique was quick to catch the stalker's attention. "Artyom, they're likely going to check us for weapons. Let's toss out what we can't use and see whether our pistols can be brought in, but there is one thing we need to do before we enter the Tops."

"What would that be?" He wondered.

An evil smile fell upon her face. "Shopping."

* * *

The duo's arrival did not go unnoticed by those in the strip. When they had exited the Lucky 38, hundreds of people were watching the stalker and the courier walk down the steps with awe and wonder. People immediately started asking their questions on what House looked like or what was it like to be in such building. Such questions peppered the duo long enough that they had now words to answer them, but several NCR military policemen arrived to break the people up. What made everything odd was the simple fact that they were not going into a clothings store, but into the NCR's Embassy.

Two dirty people entered the building and trekked through its hallways. Many of them were surprised to see their presence, but Artyom began to question why they were being taken here. "Angelique, why are we here? I thought we were supposed to be shopping."

The courier shrugged her arms. "We should be, but I think I know what's up. It's been awhile since I showed my face around these parts. Only a few people can recognize me in the embassy."

"You know these people?"

She smiled at his question. "More than you could ever imagine. Though I doubt I can keep my cover for so long. It's not like the republic is going to stop sending soldiers here."

The MPs stopped them at the door, only for the head of the group to open it up and speak to a bald and dark-skinned man typing on his terminal. "Ambassador Crocker, this is the person who entered the Lucky 38."

When he stopped typing, he stood up from his seat and turn his gaze in their direction. Yet, the ambassador widened his eyes in shock. "Let both of them in and leave us be."

"Sir, are you sure about that?" The helmeted MP asked.

"Yes, I'm sure of it. I know her." Soon after they MPs let them be, Artyom and Angelique had entered the ambassador's office. He soon gestured his hand over to the two chairs across from his desk. "Why don't both of you take a seat? I know that both of you have had a busy day since you gotten into the strip." Then he took his seat and leaned back in his chair and turned his full attention on the woman in the blue jumpsuit. "The last time you and I last spoke to one another was when you were at the Divide with orders to clear up the spies in the Mojave Express. For the time being, your dad thought you were dead."

Artyom noticed a chuckle escaping from her lips. "It seems that I take several things from my dad."

"So, what brings you to the Strip and why are you not in your Ranger uniform?" Crocker began to ask.

"Sad to say, I lost it in the Divide. I'm not going back there to get it back." She replied. "Somebody who goes by the name of Benny almost put me and Artyom in the ground. Both of us got lucky when the doctor patched us up in Goodsprings and now we're here for payback."

"Ah, it's vengeance." He explained. "Once both of you take care of your personal matter with this Benny, head south of New Vegas and you'll find a cache of NCR equipment for your needs. In the meantime, your father wants you to return back to Shady Sands. He's been worried about your well-being for quite some time."

She shook her head. "Ambassador, you know me. My dad has been preparing me to become a senator ever since I was growing up."

A deep sigh was all he could afford in his voice. "I figured you'd say that, but it would help if you at least went to him and said hello. Alex has been bugging me to make sure you're alright."

"Well, you can tell him right now."

Realizing he was being ignored, Artyom began to speak up. "I think I should leave. This certainly has nothing to do with me."

"Don't worry, I'm leaving as well."

* * *

After a couple hours were spent finding good high-quality clothes - a white clean suite for Artyom and a slender blue dress for Angelique, both were walking towards the Tops casino with their weapons hidden away underneath their clothings. It was blessing that the courier and the stalker had enough bottlecaps to pay for these kind of clothes. Before they would enter the doors, Artyom stopped her from going forward with the plan. "Why don't you want to see your own father?" He asked. It was a genuine question, her mysterious background was enough to wonder what kind of company he was in.

Angelique shook her head. "Don't mind that stuff about what Crocker said. It doesn't matter."

"At this point, it does matter. I've been brought to an embassy without my papers, so it does matter who I'm working with."

"What the hell do you know anything about me? It's not like you can understand my position." She replied.

Artyom was quick to bring his own experiences. "I'm the son of a Station Commander. Believe me, I can share that sentiment."

"Really? How can you be so sure about that?"

"Protective father who wants to see his step-son grow up in a safe and suitable environment instead of the dangers of the apocalypse? You're not the only one who has this problem."

She glanced at him with surprise. "Well my father is an important figure within the NCR. Aside from being a politician in Congress, he expected plenty of things from me at the request of my mother's deathbed. So that is where most of my gripes are coming from."

"I see." Came his reply as he walked towards the door and opened it up for her. "If you can tell me that then that is one more reason to trust you after you stole all of my things."

"You still hold that against me?"

"Somewhat, but we'll talk about that after we take care of our business."

After she entered the building, Artyom soon followed. The casino lights were enough to advertise that this place was meant for a party. The sights of games, liquor, and entertainment was enough to express how much people were willing to spend their lives here. He was caught by surprised when Angelique's arm was wrapped around his. "We need to look like a couple here to have a good time. Try to make it believable." The courier explained.

Their attention to the interior detail was gone when a man from the lobby counter had caught their attention. "Good afternoon, if you're here to play some games and win some prizes, watch the show upstairs, or even drink the night away then you've come to the right place." The young man advertised. "Before we let both of you loose, my friends and I have to make sure to take whatever weapons you have. Casino policy."

Two men from behind the counter had walked up to them and began checking their bodies. Artyom did his best to keep a calm mind as he wanted to keep Joshua Graham's pistol on his person without them knowing. When one of the guards was done patting him, he glanced over to the casino greeter. "He's clear." Then the other man was quick to finish up before returning the same response.

"Looks like you both came here unarmed." When the two guards were gone, he leaned forward and grabbed their attention. "A tip of advice from me, if you stumble upon any weapons on your way then don't openly wear them. You hear?"

Angelique smiled at him. "Thank you." She walked up to him and put down a pouch of bottlecaps his way. "We appreciate that. Come on dear, let's have some fun."

As Artyom walked behind her, he could see the greeter chuckling. "Lucky bastard…"

When the duo were finally past the checkpoint, the courier grabbed his attention. "Take a glance to the right, but not too long."

He did as he was told, only to see past the dozens of visitors to find a man in a checkered shirt, guarded by four men in hats. It was clear that they were his bodyguards, but the man's face was immediately recognized by the stalker. What also helped was a familiar voice echoing into his head. 'It is him.' The confirmation from the Dark Ones were clear enough for him to realize that he had the opportunity to take back what was his.

The young woman beside him had initiated the plan. "I'm going to confront him in person, you go find the elevators and sneak into his suite. Before we go, I need you to kiss me."

"What?" Artyom wondered.

"Remember, make this look believable. Now kiss me."

For once in his life, he felt like he was committing one of the most sinful things in life. The reluctance in leaning forward made his heart beat like a drum, but if he was ever going to get his weapon back he needed to cross some lines. By the time his lips met hers, it was only for a moment that he knew there was no going back by the time this happened. "Okay, I'll be making my way. What level is the suite again?"

"Top one."

He walked towards the path that did not appear to have as much traffic as he expected. When he looked to his right, there was an entire hallway of elevator doors with signs informing him they were not working. All except one were operable. Artyom walked calmly on the carpet floor, trying to keep his cover as his fingers began to press the buttons. He would need to be quick to search his assailant's room.

* * *

Angelique walked past the casino games and slipped past the ignorant. Her lithe form catching the eyes and whistles of young men. Yet, she didn't want to lose her prize that was the man in his checkered suite. The more she closed the distance, the four bodyguards beside him had taken note of her appearance. Then they began to whisper into Benny's ear. As he smoked his cigarette, he slowly turned around to find a young woman have a hand on her hips. "What in the goddamn…"

The courier couldn't help, but smirk at his shock. "Hello Benny, surprised to find me walking?"

His expression was filled with embarrassment. "How are you still alive? I remember burying you six-feet under."

"You should have aimed better."

"I definitely knew where I was aiming. Either you had the skull thicker than a brahmin or I should have given you another bullet." Benny replied in an arrogant tone. "So now that you're here, the first thing I got to ask is what happens now? Maybe we can talk about this?"

She smiled. "We can, but why don't we do this in private. Particularly without the guards."

"Sure, I'll play your game. As long as things don't have to get hot." Then he glanced at his guards. "Alright boys, you can have your time off. I've got a lady to talk to. Come here, courier."

Angelique did so with reluctance, trying to keep her distance from the four well-dressed bodyguards. Benny reached into his pockets and tossed a ring of keys in her general direction. After she caught it, she became confused. "What's this?"

"You said that you wanted to talk to me in private. Though I do have to ask, are you here to finish what you started."

He didn't know what she intended to do. Perhaps it was better that her ruse remained a secret. "You think I'm here for what happened in Goodsprings? No, I'm doing an errand for somebody who pays."

"Really? Who would that be?"

"That's why I really want to talk to you in private. Business tends to spoil good fun." She answered.

"Follow me, let's hope we've made our peace." As Benny walked away from his bodyguards, the courier followed after him. She was still cautious about those four making a move. Then she turned to her left to find the elevator doors open and the young man take out a pack of cigarettes and gesture her to make her way inside.

When the elevator doors had opened, Angelique was met with a spacious room - enough for three dozen people. "Quite a place you got here."

"This is the Chairman's meeting place. The closest an outsider will get to our heart of operations." He added. "Now that nobody can hear us, where do we begin?"

"Where is the Platinum Chip?"

Benny walked towards the bar on the other side of the room and poured himself a glass of hard liquor. "Simple, right here." Came his answer as he reached down into his pockets and revealed the strange device to the woman. "Looks like House sent you here to take back what's his. I figured, the old coot paid a hefty price just for this little thing."

Then he first question about the strange object had come to her. "What does it do?"

"That's the thing, I don't. All I know is that it is important enough to House and that he of all people needs it. I've tried to put this on many terminals, but it doesn't work."

"So this was the package I was carrying? The one that got me shot."

"Indeed. Sorry that you got caught up in this mess, but I couldn't let House get what he wanted. It seemed like this was the most essential thing to solidify his rule. He told me that this would give him the power to get rid of the Legion and the NCR."

Angelique perked her ears at the mention of the republic. "Enough to stop the Legion and the Republic? Ambassador Crocker is not going to like this."

"Hold up, you're NCR."

She shrugged her shoulders. "More or less. It's personal. Is it that powerful?"

"As a former apprentice of the man himself, he claims it is." Benny commented. "You can't be sure about a man who hides behind faces and monitors. Darling, if you are working for the NCR don't let him have this." Then his hand reached out to the courier.

From what it appeared, he seemed to be handing out the Platinum Chip just like that. Her hand extended outward, only to find this item of major importance pulled away.

"Before I start handing this out to you, there is a condition that needs to be met. It may be the end of both of us, but one thing is certain - we can both walk away from this peacefully or not."

The courier stared at him. "What condition needs to be met?"

"I hand you the Platinum Chip in exchange for my life. Simple enough." Benny stated. "In return, you get to leave the Tops Casino without any resistance and you can come back anytime you want."

What did she just witness? This was the most confusing person she had ever come across. As Benny drank his glass, Angelique was quick to reply. "You're handing it over to me, just like that? You're not going to try and stop me?"

"Babe, I know my odds. Ever since I put a bullet in you, he's been keen on taking my head. I might not live to see what happens after, but I want to be sure that you'll get an opportunity to hit him in the jewels - if he has any."

"You're letting a stranger from the NCR some access to this powerful object and you're not going to object. I find it hard to believe."

The first thing Benny did was laugh. "This is the Strip, if you've been here long enough you wouldn't believe the things you've heard." Then he tossed the Platinum Chip into her hands. "My days are numbered, so good luck."

Angelique glanced into her palm and inspected the strange device. Whatever this chip was, there was something that appears to be attached to this. Whatever this was, she would soon find out."

* * *

When Benny had locked his room, the first thing he could do was breathe effortlessly. Seeing the woman walking when she should have died was not something he expected in the Mojave. Then again, neither did he expect to play dress up for an ancient man who lived long before his time. He walked past the chairs and the furniture, going into a place full of secrets that he knew about.

Yet, there was a particular smell in his private place that wasn't supposed to be here. "Why do I smell mushrooms?" He wondered.

A simple click had echoed behind his back. Then he heard a voice with a foreign accent speak to him. "Turn around."

The Chairman turned around with his hands raised, it as best not to anger somebody who snuck into his room. Upon closer look, he recognized the face, but it belonged to a person who he didn't expect. "Hell, it must be my bad luck that you're alive as well."

"Indeed, but let's make this quick before I leave."

"What are you here for? Money?"

"No, I'm here for my Kalashnikov." Came his response. "You currently have it."

Benny raised his eyebrows. "You came to the Tops and hunted me down just so you can get back your gun? Why?"

"Let's just say it was a gift and you stole it." The stranger replied with his autopistol in hand.

"You'll leave as soon as you get your weapon?" He nodded his head. "Damn, I must be having the strangest day of my life. Just give me a second."

* * *

Author's Note: Thus ends the confrontation between Benny, the Courier, and Artyom.

* * *

 **randomidiot1816** : If you're going to give me HOI4 and CKII tips, PM me.

 **Paladin Bailey** : Thanks for the review.

 **Another S.T.A.L.K.E.R** : Yep.


	41. Chapter 41: The Calm before the Storm

When Mr. House was given what was due, he permitted the group within the Lucky 38 to celebrate their victory and have a break for several days. Although the party was limited to four people, there was enough alcohol to forget the wasteland outside of the casino's walls. With the exception to the room Mr. House resided in, most of the casino was at the pleasure of the four who enjoyed their time exploring the place that was now their new home. One could say they had reached heaven and could drink away their thoughts. Two people found the opportunity to finally embrace one another with or without a parent's blessing.

Artyom awoke from his slumber as he heard the ringing from his watch. After he deactivated the alarm, he sat up from his bed and found his body resting well after much recuperation from the wasteland. This morning was supposed to be a meeting with his new boss after accepting the caps he offered from his securitrons. Then he looked to his left and found his love resting quietly on her side. If he ever found Sukhoi, the young man would have a hard time trying to explain this to his step-father. For the first time, he understood love and how to love someone.

Now was not the time to think about such matters as he slipped out of bed and quietly changed into his clothes and slipped on his armored vest. Trying not to make a sound while changing was just as challenging as trying to sneak past ghost people. Once he finished with his clothes, he grabbed the auto pistol that was gifted by Joshua, the pneumatic weapon, and the Kalashnikov - which Benny was quick to return in exchange for his life. With his equipment ready and his helmet strapped on, he was about to walk to the elevator. Yet, the young man realized he needed to do one last act out of the goodness of his heart. He walked up to a sleeping Cass and kissed her on the cheek. "Good morning, Rose." Then he walked out the room and made his way towards the elevator.

The doors opened as a yawning courier stretched her arms upward. "Morning, Arty. I hope you had some good sleep. House has a job for us."

When he slipped in and leaned against the wall, he crossed his arms. "You're early. Mind telling me if anything happened before I woke up."

"Yeah, I got some news. Turns out your people are working alongside the NCR and have located a Brotherhood of Steel hideout." Angelique answered as she pulled out her plasma gun and checked it's ammo. "Got to say, they're leaving quite an impression on the Mojave."

"What are they doing to the Brotherhood of Steel?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "The guy on the radio said that the NCR and the Russians are going to propose a truce with the Brotherhood of Steel. I'm surprised given their history with the Republic."

"They had a history?" He asked. Was it just as bad as the Red Line-Hansa war when he was back in the Metro.

"War. Turns out the Brotherhood of Steel didn't like the NCR having too much technology and so they declared war on them out of ideological reasons." Angelique answered. "The NCR was winning most of the time before those tin men gave us a bloody nose by fucking with our economy out of spite. The last time we had active fighting was the Battle of Helios One - which we won, again. Turns out power armor and ideology don't matter when it comes to numbers."

Artyom smiled at the history. "Reminds me a lot about home when Hansa and the Red Line went to war. Both gave each other decisive blows, but neither won the war. Simply an armistice to prepare for their next conflict should their interests clash again."

"I forget, your people lived in tunnels. How would you even be able to fight in them?"

"I often wonder the same. I've met people who did participate in the conflict, mostly soldiers protecting their traders, but their stories often resulted with a lot of bodies trying to overrun entire barricades by numbers alone."

"Reminds me of the Legion sometimes. I heard from some veterans from the Battle of Hoover Dam that the Legion sends waves of soldiers regardless if they're getting picked off by snipers or machine guns."

"Interesting conversation that we have. Hopefully, the Legion will make the same mistake twice." Artyom commented.

"Don't be so optimistic, there are people in the Legion who can adapt. Not all of them, but some of them are dangerous enough to cause some trouble behind the lines."

"They certainly won't last against any of the factions in the Metro."

She glanced over at him. "What makes you so sure?"

"Passports. If you don't have proper documentation and demand entrance to a place full of soldiers, guards will have no qualms of shooting you. There are some people out there who would allow them in for a price, but it's a rare occurrence."

When the elevator doors slid open, Angelique stepped out. "We can talk about our wastelands later. House is certainly expecting us." The duo walked out and made their way to meet with their employer as Securitrons patrolled the surrounding locations. "Good morning, Mr. House. I hope you had a pleasant evening."

The digital picture of the man was displayed on screen as the tone of his voice was enough to tell that he was satisfied. "Your celebration shouldn't have taken this long, but given that both of you were shot in the head and took days to dispose of Benny and retrieve what was mine I allowed it to happen. Such exemptions are not normally extended such as the previous employee of mine; however, we are wasting much time discussing about your vacation." He said. "As of right now I have several missions for both of you. Angelique, I want you to go to Red Rock Canyon and speak with the Khans. Although the tribe is hostile to outsiders, I am sure they will listen to someone who may repay what had occurred at Bitter Springs."

"You want to recruit them?" She wondered. "How could they be so helpful?"

"An excellent question. If New Vegas is to survive in these times, we must all work together to survive. The Great Khans will see the potential of working for me and perhaps they might enjoy the liberties of my protection once my plan for the Mojave goes into effect." He explained. "However, the NCR intends to see them out and I want to be sure if they are looking to other interested parties. If they do exist - deal with them. Otherwise, you may as well eliminate the entire tribe."

The courier expressed her surprise. "Hold up, you're giving me the option to eliminate or recruit the Great Khans? You just said that you wanted them to work for you."

"Based on my calculations, the Great Khans still believe in a form of autonomy, but they are no longer needed in such times. At the same time, it's difficult not to see their potential of serving my city. I leave these options up to you. One way or another, they need to be under control or gone."

"I… understand. I'll see if I can convince them to become loyal to you if possible."

"Good. I shall be awaiting the results." With the conversation finished, Artyom felt the attention fall towards him. "Artyom, there is a matter I need you to take care of and I might repay you by dealing with the Van Graffs that have troubled your… companion."

The young man raised his head up high and tall for what to come. "What task will you have me do?"

"South of New Vegas, the Brotherhood of Steel is holed up in Hidden Valley and the NCR is coming there while your fellow Russian people broker negotiations with these ludicrous people. I need you to go there."

"What will you have me do?" Artyom asked. Curious about the details of his mission.

"The Brotherhood of Steel is an organization that needs to die, but I know you are just one man who is not capable of the job. However, the NCR is. What I really want you to do is sow distrust between the NCR and the Brotherhood - where their hostilities will continue with the exhaustion of the republic's forces and the possible elimination of the techno-cult." The way Mr. House spoke about the Brotherhood of Steel had made him wonder. Why does he sound like he hated them so much. "Is there a problem?"

"No, but I am curious what you have against the Brotherhood?"

"Simple, they are an organization that simply hoards technology for themselves - specifically ones that put people in the grave. Such a group that fills itself like they are the knights of the apocalypse must go as they provide no productive future for humanity unless it is themselves. Even then, the NCR seems like a better alternative than these people."

"Surely the Brotherhood might not all be that bad."

"Don't tell me you bought into their naive lies of knighthood and goodness. It certainly did not save them when the NCR had more troops than they had power armor. They. Must. Die." The tone of anger through the speakers was enough for Artyom to understand that he carried such hatred for these people. Since Veronica and Christine were also part of the Brotherhood, he would find himself at odds with what to do. If he did as he was told, the idea of betraying the people he worked with before might have its consequences. Yet, he was offering a way to deal with the Van Graffs in a way that Cass wouldn't have imagined. "Have you come to a decision?"

Realizing his employer noticed his indecisiveness, Artyom made the decision to accept what was given to him. "You said that the NCR was going to negotiate with them. What why would they do that if they're complete enemies."

"To send troops elsewhere. The NCR and your people have recently taken back one of the Legion's positions on this side of the river." He stated in detail. "I find that problematic that if they do win this war against the Legion through a temporary alliance, their interests might turn their full attention to my city. A breakdown of negotiations might not be possible with the NCR trying to exterminate those rats where they truly belong. If you do this, your friend will find herself as a secretary and oversee the caravans needed to this city without a worry in the world."

"I will do it." He stated. "Just give me some time to plan."

"Don't take too long, time is of the essence. Both of you are dismissed."

When the stalker and the courier returned to the elevator, Artyom began to think about who was capable of negotiating between factions. It couldn't be the Polis Rangers, could it? However, his discomfort did not go unnoticed when Angelique voiced her concerns. "You look nervous, is this the first time you had a mission by yourself?"

He acknowledged with a nod. "No, it's something else. Have you ever had a moment where you admired a particular group of people and you're being tasked to go against them."

"Yeah, I do." She realized. "You know these people?"

"To some extent, yes." Artyom stated. "The Polis Rangers are the Metro's peacekeepers and the Council's greatest soldiers."

"If it discomforts you, I could do it."

He shook his head. "No, I won't let you do it."

"You're going to do what House asks?"

What could he do? Although he endured the horrors of the Sierra Madre and the bloodshed throughout Zion, Artyom had his intentions clearly laid out before him. However, this situation was a rock in a hard place. Whatever he would do, there would be consequences for undermining Hunter's people or defying House's orders. He was forced to choose. "It depends. I might simply arrive at the negotiations table and watch from the sidelines."

"If that is the case, then that makes two of us."

"It does?"

"I know you haven't been around these parts long enough, but my loyalty to the NCR is still there. It has its faults, no doubt about that, but I don't really trust that guy. There is something important on that Platinum Chip and I intend to find out."

The young man couldn't help, but laugh. "Here we are, two people about to betray our employer."

"It's going to be awhile until we return to this place and I recommend staying away from the Lucky 38 until I know what's behind this chip." Stated Angelique. "This place may be nice and all, but we're going to need a meeting place that is away from House's securitrons."

"Do you have any ideas? I still don't have a good map of the area."

"Yeah, get some piece of paper. I'll write it down."

Artyom immediately reached for his clipboard where is important papers lie. Once he brought it out, he found the map that was given to him by Khan. The strangest thing he saw was that it no longer mapped the Metro, but the Mojave Desert.

"Woah, where did you get a map like that?" She asked.

"I bartered for it."

"Then that is a very well-drawn map." Her finger pointed at a small patch of land that was surrounded by mountainous terrain. "That is Hidden Valley, I'm sure Veronica and Christine are among the Brotherhood if they are there. You'll have to find out." Then she traced her finger over to a location near a lake. "There is Camp Golf. It's an NCR base that you will have to cross on open land just to get to it, but House won't be able to send anyone there without raising suspicion. I'll go tell Pavel and Cass to go there as well, just in case he does get any ideas."

* * *

Hidden Valley - the last refuge for the Brotherhood of Steel of the Chapter Mojave - was now found by the NCR and their allies. Veronica looked around to see the dozens of NCR soldiers surrounding her family's home whether it be the standard issued uniform or the salvaged NCR power armor. They were cornered and it would be a hard fight if negotiations came to shooting. She stood alongside her power armored brothers and sisters who carried their energy weapons with pride.

Although her family disliked the scribe's relationship with the Circle of Steel assassin, they became tolerant after hearing the horrors that she had been through. It often surprised the remains of the Mojave Chapter that the outsiders committed themselves to keeping dangerous technology out of the hands of men - including their former member - Father Elijah. It seem like everything was falling apart after all of these years.

With the NCR now present, Veronica crossed her arms and observed her potential foes. The Battle of Helios One had left a bad taste in the Brotherhood and she couldn't blame her family for wanting blood. However, the situation changed when an entourage of people walked past the confrontation in uniforms she had only seen on a different person. Among them was an NCR representative - a woman whose look was the scorn of a nightstalker.

They were immediately confronted by one of the paladins who staunchly stood in their way. "You don't look like NCR." He began. "Who are you?"

Almost all of them were wearing masks as one of the men turned his gaze upon him. "We're Polis Rangers - peacekeepers." The stranger replied in a Russian accent. "Now move aside, your elder is waiting."

The paladin ignored him as he stared down the man from his height; however, Veronica started to intervene on his behalf out of common sense. "Hardin, let him through. Don't worry about them, I'll make sure these kids walk in line."

One of the men behind the stranger had laughed. "Wow, she has a sense of humor."

"I'm born with it." She admitted as Paladin Hardin stepped aside to let the negotiations team through.

Veronica led the way into the bunkers, passing by the secured checkpoints filled with hallways made up of armed scribes or Paladins. As she continued going deeper into the system, the scribe looked over her shoulder to see the Russians take off their helmets and get rid of their masks. "Damn, it's hot in here. Does anybody even put in the AC in here?"

Another one of the men - someone far older and harsher in tone had spoken up. "Quick talking Uhlman. We're overseeing the negotiations and we don't have time for your comments or bad jokes. Besides, I'm sure everyone here would shoot themselves rather than listen to you."

"Have some fun Colonel Miller. We've been invited by our esteemed hosts into their humble home. What's wrong with admiring the interior decoration."

She couldn't help, but smile. "Thank you, we've been adjusting the lighting just for this very occasion."

The expressed his annoyance. "Great, there is another who share's Uhlman's sense of humor."

Then the party began to make their way into the bunker, only to arrive in the command room. Power armored guards stood behind a single man who sat in a chair at the center of the circular room. His seat was elevated compared to where his guest stood. The older man was pleasantly surprised to find her amongst the group. "Veronica, thank you for escorting our… guests into the right place. Why don't you stand aside while I discuss with this…" He turned his full attention towards the NCR officer standing before him.

She was quick to reply. "Colonel Moore, elder, my name is Colonel Moore." Then she glanced towards the Russian soldiers that escorted her. "Miller, do you think you can make sure Elder McNamara doesn't shoot me while I'm talking?"

Uhlman spoke up. "If we can keep a Nazi and a communist in one room without letting them blow each other's heads off, I think we can handle this."

The Russian colonel looked to his soldier with a glare before he answered. "Not the way I would put it, but our experience in making sure a friendly discussion between peoples can happen without violence. Rangers, disperse." Without question, eight Polis Rangers walked out from the congested hallway and into the presence of Elder McNamara with their weapons drawn.

Veronica watched from the sidelines while her superior gestured his hand out to the NCR officer. "You may begin."

Colonel Moore glanced around and placed her hands behind her back. "Allow me to be honest, I would have ordered my soldiers to kill your people on sight as soon as I found out this place existed. However, I have orders from the top to speak with your people."

"Very well then, what brings the NCR in my command room?"

"We're here to negotiate a cease-fire and perhaps a temporary alliance with your chapter." She answered. "Both of us know that Caesar's Legion is powerful and should they win this next battle, the Mojave would be in their control. Neither of us are in position to hold back the tide of soldiers that jackass can bring."

"Interesting. The NCR is here to ask an alliance out of convenience. I would accept, but in order for this treaty to be enacted there must be something for us in return."

"Name it."

"Your troops are carrying power armor that the NCR has salvaged after the Battle of Helios One. The Brotherhood of Steel would appreciate it if you returned them into our hands."

"You want us to hand over our equipment?" Moore wondered. "What will makes you think I can trust you and not worry about your chapter attacking us in the back?"

"Because we will be fighting mutants and criminals on the I-15 and Highway 95." He answered. "As I understand, the NCR has logistical problems trying to supply its troops. Perhaps my Paladins can make it easier for your men."

Watching the entire scenario was interesting for Veronica as she simply wondered what could happen with a single sentence. Could so much blood be erased by a single treaty? Her attention to the negotiations was gone when she saw Christine gesture her hand out to leave the room. Rather than interrupt the meeting, the Brotherhood scribe walked past the Russian soldiers with their foreign weapon designs. They often reminded her of Artyom in that armor when he and Pavel came to the rescue.

By the time she was in the hallways and away from the talking, Christine spoke her mind. "Artyom is back."

They stopped in the darkness as she stared at her. "Wait, he's alive?"

The assassin nodded her head. "I came to check how things are going with Hardin, but Artyom showed up and talked to me."

"What's wrong?"

"He says that he was sent there by House, but he's warning us that House has plans. Wants us to go to Camp Golf and talk with him there." Christine answered.

"Well, so much for our vacation." Veronica replied.


	42. Chapter 42: Black Mountain

Having a strange map that changed based on your location was quite useful, especially when there was a chance that it involved dangerous mutants. It had been awhile since Artyom traveled alone. The last time he could recall was when he left the road of Goodsprings with his guns on his person. Anybody would have criticized him for going alone, but he was not like most people. After all, he had the help of the Dark Ones. Now that he thought about them, they were mysteriously silent after all of these days. They should have kept in contact with him, but he couldn't blame such creatures to remain out of sight.

The stalker brought out his map again, only to find himself in a network of valleys that lead towards and elevated position nearby. Perhaps he could have a better viewpoint if he went there instead of getting lost. Artyom continued trekking through the land with his Tihar drawn. However, he was led into an area where a massive crater resided. As he walked towards the edge, the young man looked below to find the horrors of radiation.

There were several horrible-looking creatures that crawled in the epicenter of where a massive bomb had fallen. He couldn't describe what made these humans be deformed into these mere beasts and their mutations terrified him. Bones etched out of their bodies as multiple hands extended out and acted as legs. Massive tumors were displayed on their backs as what remained of the human mouth was replaced with these tentacle appendages that writhed in the air. Besides these abominations were several bodies of what appeared to be their victims.

Then one of the creatures turned it's gaze upon him and started crawling up the crater's slope. "Shit!" Artyom cried out in terror as he pumped his Tihar's air pressure to the maximum. Then he aimed at the monster and fired his first shot into the creature's head. The ball-bearing struck it's head before it succumbed to the blood loss and slumped back alongside it's kin. Yet, the rest of the pack recognized his presence.

Unlike the fallen creature, these radioactive freaks of nature vomited a strange substance at him. He took several steps back, only to watch their range attacks litter the ground with acid.

To his surprise, seven black shadows brushed past him and descended into the crater. He looked back into the depression to find the Dark Ones arrive and raise their hands against them. The mutated and deformed humans had begun to writhe on the ground against their power. Soon after, their tentacles lashed against one-another - striking their fellow kin without hesitation. Some were unable to fight as if they were too weak to even stand up against the Dark Ones.

When these horrors were finally put down, a Dark One appeared and stood beside him. 'Centaurs…' It began. 'His evil… creations…'

Artyom turned his head towards the dark-skinned creature and noticed the hands clenched into fists. "You know what these things are?"

Then it turned towards him and released the tension with its fingers. 'Yes… your mother… knew them well…' It replied.

"How?"

'We will show you… not now… evil creatures are up there… only one of them… good…'

He looked up at the mountain above and noticed the antennas in disrepair. "There are more of these things?"

'No… they are different… much like us… but twisted… by design… Will explain… later…" With that said, the Dark One disappeared as the stalker steered away from the edges of the cliff.

When he continued onward, he found a gate in the way. Artyom quickly lockpicked the entrance open as he found himself on a broken road that appeared to be making its way to the top of the mountain. North of his position, he could see the bright city of New Vegas, shining in the distance. One could admire its beauty from this location, but after being there himself there was little he could admire. On the outside, it was merely an alluring sight for those naive enough to go there.

This little distraction had cost him the awareness of his surroundings when he heard a pair of heavy footsteps make their way towards him. He tightly grasped his pneumatic weapon and looked for the source of the noise, but he was answered with this height overshadowing him with mass and muscles. The green-skinned humanoid looked down upon him while he wore only ripped pants and a frankenstein collection of metal pieces for armor. There was only one other creature he faced, but that was before his departure to the Sierra Madre. "I'm surprised that there is a human walking around these parts. Black Mountain doesn't get those kinds of visitors, but those who do are usually sensible enough to find civilization." The stranger spoke in clear english.

Artyom remained stiff as he looked at the being that spoke to him. "You're somewhat new."

He smiled. "My apologies, my name is Marcus. I am trying to keep travelers from going up the mountain."

"I have seen your kind before, but he was blue. Are you two related?" He asked.

"We may be supermutants, but I think you are referring to the nightkin - those who like to use stealthboys." Marcus answered in a calm and well-mannered tone. "I must say, you're not from around here, are you?"

It was difficult to ease the tension when the young man was confronted by someone who could rip his head off. "No, I come from Moscow. Accidentally came to this place by complete accident."

He nodded his head. "A very strange turn of events. Don't worry about me, I'm not here to hurt you. In fact, I was about to deal with the nightkin and the supermutants atop the mountain due to their nature around humans. Could you help me deal with them?"

"How?" The stalker asked as he was unable to remove his finger from the trigger. "I'm just only one person."

"You see, I used to be the leader of the super mutants atop of Black Mountain." Marcus began. "I have managed to get my supporters out of there and live in Jacobstown, but I'm quite worried about what could happen up there."

"What do you mean? Do you think they're up to something terrible?" Artyom wondered.

"In a way. Most of my kin up there are not too intelligent and some of them want to return to the old ways when there used to be an army of us." A deep sigh was all he could offer. "Even though I missed them as well, the last thing I want is the NCR to hunt us down like animals and the one in charge might give them the excuse they need. Besides, one person is all I need to stir up trouble and get someone out of their prison cell."

He crossed his arms with skepticism. "That's if I don't get killed in the process."

The super mutant chuckled. "I watched from the mountain when you killed those centaurs. I know they are helping you and close by." He said. "I'm sure they'll be helpful in dealing with my kin." Then he turned his back and walked up the mountain.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"To the top of the mountain. You will need my help by the time you get to the village."

"Great, what did I get myself into?" He wondered to himself as he switched his weapon for Bourbon's Kalashnikov. As the young man pressed up the road, he was quickly surprised to find a checkpoint made up of super mutants just like Marcus.

His initial impression of the creatures had made him scared on the inside, but he was not alone in this endeavor to get to the top. The Dark Ones intervened on his behalf. 'We shall help…' One of their strange kind had appeared amidst the crowd of muscles and unleashed chaos. It all began with a surprise on the super mutants, but then the situation changed when they began to attack each other. Fires burned from fuels of a flamethrower as gunfire erupted from a strange multi barrel gun, causing the fuel tank to unleash an explosive reaction and catching the entire checkpoint in fire. Marcus was not wrong when he said he had help.

Artyom cautiously approached the area as he noticed the burned creatures lying on the ground. What remained of them was now scorched in fire while he tried to salvage whatever he could find. Unlike the pipe bombs of the Metro, he was able to loot their unexploded grenades off their body. Some even appearing to be green in color. Whatever they were, their potential firepower had belonged to him.

The road to the mountain was long. There was only one time he had to hike up such locations, but it didn't matter as much when he noticed two choices that lay before him. He could take his sweet time following the road or he could go up a small trail on his right. "That's convenient." He commented, but there was a discrepancy that caught his eye. A body of an NCR trooper was lying on the ground, but it appeared that something crushed him by sheer weight alone. Perhaps it was better not to go up that trail; however, he saw two giant figures at the top of the trail pushing a boulder near the edge. "Shit."

He quickly rushed to the side of the trail as the boulder rolled down the trail and flew past him. The damn beasts knew a thing or two about how to give a vicious fight. Something he was familiar in the Metro. With their trap sprung, Artyom moved up the trail with his weapon raised. The perpetrators had something coming if they remained where they were.

When he reached the top of the trail, he looked down below and realised how much extra hiking was spared because he went through this route. Then he looked forward, only to find where the road had led - a bombed out town. Just like the crater at the base of the bomb, there was a larger one at the center of the ruins. Yet, this place was filled with super mutants and they were all staring at him. Most of them carried blunt weapons and some with these rusty old rifles, but it was clear that they were waiting for him. "It's the human Marcus told us about!" One of them shouted. "Kill him!"

Once more, the Dark Ones assisted him, but in another way. 'You see… and bring death…' Artyom's vision began to change, but he was able to detect and identify the dozens of super mutants charging at him. They were all in red, except for one.

While the creatures closed the distance, he fired his assault rifle in short bursts. Unlike the normal people he fought, it took more bullets to kill these creatures. The blessing was that they didn't wear as much armor like Marcus did. When his assault rifle became empty, Artyom reached for his holster and drew his .45 auto pistol and continued firing. Compared to the assault rifle, he was quick good at reloading pistols as he replaced the magazine for a new one.

He looked past his assailants and saw Marcus walking towards him with one of those miniguns in hand. As he spun the weapon's barrels, the stalker froze in place that he was just about to be killed a single moment. Then he thought for a moment. Why would he do that if his kin was in the way? To his surprise, the gunfire teared through the supermants in quick succession as the weapon's barrels were red hot. "Sorry about that." The super mutant apologized.

Filled with anger, Artyom's outburst was displayed. "Sorry? You could have killed me! I am just lucky one of your bullets didn't have my name on it!"

"Again, I am truly sorry about that. I needed to be a bit convincing I was on their side." Then Marcus looked over his shoulder to a large shack built into the side of the mountain. "We can discuss your disagreement with my methods after I draw the rest from the radio antenna. Then, you can free the ghoul who was imprisoned against his will."

It was strange he could trust something like him, but he would ponder that thought as he grabbed his emptied magazines and rushed toward his designated position. While he reloaded his weapon quietly as he could, the stalker could see Marcus leave him as his geiger counter began to scramble to life. There was some radiation around, hopefully it wouldn't have to stay long to earn a mutation.

A moment later, Marcus walked past the shack where he hid, but there were was nobody following behind him… or so it seemed. His eyes scanned the area, but he could see a shimmer in the light move past him. However, he was able to outline the shimmers and recognize that they were somehow invisible. Artyom patiently waited until the invisible creatures were gone, but the only confirmation was the comforting voice of a Dark One - strange as that may be. 'He has led the astray away…' Odd how they knew so much about these creatures, leaving more questions than he wanted.

Upon leaving the ruins behind, Artyom made his way towards the top of the tower as Marcus had recommended. When he walked closer to what appeared to be a radio station, he found himself shocked when he saw a single sentry waiting for him, but it was carrying a crude device upon its shoulders. "Die human!" The stalker soon learned that there was more to the weapon as it catapulted a small bomb after him. As it whistled through the air, Artyom fell to the ground and watched the explosive make its way further down the road. A small flashing light erupted when the explosion resembled a small mushroom cloud forced him to close his eyes.

When the danger was out of the way, Artyom brought his assault rifle to bear and fired while prone. The 5.45 rounds pinging the metal railing the sentry stood on. Yet, one of his rounds resulted with the base of the antenna to erupt in a fiery explosion, causing the structure to weakly creak at its weakness before falling down the mountain and crashing it's essential signal into the road. "What kind of bomb was that?" He wondered to himself as he approached the two signal buildings that remained intact.

After storming into a building with one floor, the young man quickly explored the place and started looking for a ghoul. The room was dead silent save for the flickering lights of a terminal. When he approached the device, he began to explore the several entries between someone called Tabitha and Raul. Despite their initial relations after fixing the radar system that he just destroyed with that explosion, Raul was imprisoned due to his capabilities of repairing old equipment. However, she was dissatisfied that he was not able to fix someone who went by the name of Ronda. So this is what Marcus needed him for, to rescue a ghoul from slavery. It was quite a noble goal then if he wanted him to be the one to rescue him.

Oddly enough, the terminal just so happened to have the option to unlock the door's mechanism that led into the other room. It shouldn't have been this easy to rescue a single person, but perhaps that was why Marcus needed to draw the others away. To ensure that he had a chance to leave the mountain alive.

Artyom heard the door's mechanisms unlock as he walked to it and pushed it open, leading him into another room. This time, he found a ghoul in a mechanics suit, sitting in a chair writing with a pencil on a single piece of paper. "Hey boss, let me see Ronda again and I'll see if I can fix him up." The stranger looked up from his drawing, only to meet the eyes of the stalker in the room. "Who the hell are you?"

"My name is Artyom, I'm here to rescue you." The Russian answered.

"A Russian?" He started laughing. "You almost remind me of those Reds I watched in a show when I was a kid." The ghoul replied before he ended his enjoyment of his rescue. "I am glad that I managed to get a break. Before we go, how did you manage to get through Tabitha and her people?"

"A super mutant by the name of Marcus led them away, giving me the opportunity to get to you." He replied while loading his weapon.

"Wow. Is that a genuine AK?"

Artyom nodded his head. "Da, it was a gift from a friend."

"Well, we can exchange life stories after we get out of here. First, get me into the other building. I need to do something."

"Like what?"

The ghoul stared at him. "I'm a mechanic, Tabitha will have to keep her end of the deal now that I figured out how to fix a damn robot."

"Hope it is a quick fix."

"Muchacho, if it was, I wouldn't be here. I only read a magazine on how to fix one. It might work, but the wear and tear doesn't look pretty."

The duo walked out of the building and went into the next one. This time, they were both in a storage room filled with dozens of ammunition littered all over the place. "In case you need an extra hand, call me. I'm going to see if there is anything worth stalking."

The ghoul laughed as he walked over to a table of a broken machine laying on its side. "If you find a poster and go into a closet, I wouldn't want to call you."

"Very funny." He said while unzipping his backpack and looking around for anything of value. Over the time he had been in the Mojave, his capacity to carrying many things was beginning to put a strain on him. The Lucky 38 would have been a wonderful place to leave many things behind and have room to obtain more, but his disagreement with House would have left him in bad state. Then he opened his bag further, only to find there was five more cans of cram pressed against his disassembled weapons and ammo. "What's your name?"

"You came all this way to rescue you me, but you don't know my name. Where are your manners?" The ghoul laughed while fixing the robot with his magazine in his hand.

"My apologies, things are different back in Moscow. You can say, cultural differences. My name is Artyom, in case you're wondering." Looking around, he found a note stating that there were missiles hidden away as if someone was making a game out of it. Curious, searched while unscrewing the cap off the Sarsaparilla bottle to quench his thirst.

"No problems jefe, I'm Raul. Before the war, I was a Mexican with a family and now I look like my neighbor's dog. I suppose manners are something of the past."

"I hear you."

He scoffed at his reply. "Really? How do you know anything about surviving bombs? You're a puppy by my standards."

After he grabbed three missiles off the shelf, he looked for more. "The Metro is filled with strange things such as anomalies that brought me from my world of cold tunnels underneath Moscow into the desert of the Mojave."

"Anomalies? Sounds like some superstitious nonsense."

"I would have agreed with you, but it's hard to ignore the hundreds of Russian soldiers running around in the Mojave." Behind a crate, he found more missiles hiding away before he slipped them into his backpack.

Raul bursted out laughing. "Hold up, you're telling me that there are more of your people in America? Either you're loco or I've been stuck in this building for so long."

When the stalker finished scavenging the supply room, he held his backpack by the small hinge for a hook and walked over to the ghoul. "I know this stuff is old, but it's probably better than anything they gave you in that room."

He could see the smile on his face. "Thank you, jefe. I appreciate the decency of a person serving me decent preserved pre-war." Then he was handed a bottle of cold Nuka-Cola. "Well, where did you get this?"

"Found it in the back while I was looking for these missiles." Then Artyom glanced towards the robot. "Why are you fixing the robot when we can leave?"

"Gringo, you're going to appreciate it once I do get it fixed." The mechanic focused his full attention onto the robot as he slipped a strange cylinder-like container into the broken machine. "This should do it." For a moment, the robot lay lifeless on the table without any response while Raul closed it up. "Give it a minute." He said.

Then the machine whined to life while it's 'eyes' had started to 'blink' to life. "Oh my, power has been restored." The machine spoke as if it was voiced by an actual person. Soon after, a fiery blast had escaped from a small hole in the machine, forcing the stalker to grab his belongings before it ignited the ammo. Artyom took a step back as the legless machine started to float in the air. "Um, where am I? Also, where is Tabitha?

"She should be outside." Raul answered as he pushed the door open and allowed the machine to fly past him. "Alright muchacho, stay calm and don't start a fight. She should be coming."

When the duo followed the robot out, they were immediately met by a large group of blue-skinned super mutants. "Whatever you're doing, it better save our souls."

The super mutants had made way for one of their kin, who was wearing a blonde wig and some strange glasses. It appeared that this was their leader. "Raul, did you fix Rhonda?"

"Yes, jefe, I did. Can I go now?" He asked.

"You may, my best friend is back!"

Then the robot spoke to her. "Mistress Tabitha, you look worse for wear. You haven't been putting on your makeup."

"Guilty as charged." The super mutant replied. "Everyone, there is no need to remain in the State of Utobitha. Let's go."

One of her subordinates was confused. "Why? I thought this was place for super mutants."

"Look at antenna, it's broken."

"Oh, I didn't see that."

"You never do. That is why I'm leader and you're not." Tabitha stated before returning her full attention towards them - her eyes staring at the Russian. "Even though you trespass on this state, we will let you live and leave."

Artyom nodded his head. "Thank you for this mercy, good Tabitha."

"Let's go people, we have stories to tell to good 'ole Rhonda." With that said, the group of super mutants had begun to walk away down the broken road and continued to continue on with their lives.

"So why didn't you fix that thing earlier?" He asked the Mexican ghoul.

"I just needed that small book earlier, but Tabitha wouldn't have let me take a look at it. She thought I could fix it just like magic." He said. "So should we go our separate ways?"

"After we find a way out of this damn maze."

"Watch out, some of these places are filled with bark scorpions."

* * *

Out of the maze that was Black Mountain, Artyom and Raul walked through the desert together. "So tell me, Raul, what's your story beyond getting trapped there?" The stalker began.

The mechanic shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, muchacho. Not sure if you want to form a campfire and hear a life of some old wasted ghoul."

"You would be surprised how much I'm okay with it." The young man replied.

Before they could continue talking, Artyom heard a clinking behind his back. When they turned around, a squad of Legion soldiers had them in their sights. One of the Legionnaires was a man wearing skin of a wolf with his eyes covered by sunglasses. "Alone at last." He said with an eccentric voice.

"Shit!" He swore to himself.

"I heard what had happened in the profligate city when you confronted your killer. To be truthful, it's quite impressive that you managed to come all this way to find Benny." The stranger with the eccentric voice stated. "Had you been anybody else, we would have killed both of you without question. However, you have earned the attention of my master, who sees your potential regardless of your origins." He reached into his pocket and brought out a small medallion with some strange bull creature on it. "The great Caesar wishes you to come to Cottonwood Cove - there, someone will take you to my lord's camp. Whatever offenses you have against the Legion, they have been washed away. Such an opportunity is not one you should waste."

"Is this why you were sent here?" The stalker wondered.

"No, but you just so happened to be nearby."

"Who are you?"

"I am Vulpes Inculta - on of many Caesar's servants." Then he turned his back on him. "Do not follow us, unless you want a fight."

Meanwhile, Raul leaned closer to him. "Okay jefe, what the hell did you get yourself in?"

As the Legion squad departed from the duo, Artyom reached for his assault rifle and took a step back. "I don't know, but I don't trust him one bit."

* * *

Author's Note: While the NCR has made its move, so does the Legion. Due to reasons, my posting cycle is out of whack, but it has encouraged me to try and focus on this story. So I'll be focusing on this now that I'm hyped up by Obsidian's trailer and Bethesda's recent failings.

* * *

 **Aren serathy** : That is a recipe for disaster.

 **Lt. Frostdromeda** : Thanks.


	43. Chapter 43: Luck of the Devil

When the stalker had brought the ghoul to safety, he was alone in the world. What he needed to do was try to make his way to Camp Golf and learn what was needed to be done about Mr. House. Artyom could not trust him, especially when he was asked to clash against the Order. He owed the Spartan Order so much and it was just wrong to do so. That man should have known better than to simply trust a foreigner who put so much stock into the peacekeeping organization.

Walking underneath the shadow of the broken highways made him feel small, but it often reminded him of what this world could have been if nuclear war had not destroyed this place. Despite the sorrow that came with it, the young man simply ignored them and went on his way to the south.

It should have been a simple walk, but the stalker could still sense that somebody was watching him. Now it could not have been the Legion as they assured him that he would be safe if he still had this mark of Caesar. However, the gut feeling in his stomach had made him feel… endangered.

A hot red beam had flew past his head, forcing him to turn around and face his assailant. The problem was that there wasn't just one attacker. "You goddamn idiot, you gave away our position!" A dark-skinned man shouted to one of his fellow comrades. "Bring this fucker in, we can't keep Gloria waiting!"

Without hesitation, Artyom drew his Kalashnikov and started firing his weapon. The gunshots were enough to force the seven heavily armed ambushers to drop to the ground. Meanwhile, he took the opportunity to step back and still keep a good focus on his targets. A quick burst of hand-made bullets escaped from Bourbon's rifle and struck one of the energy weapon-wielding enemies in the head. Perhaps the only blessing he could see out this situation was the fact that they didn't wear helmets.

Then the six attackers pressed forward with unrelenting firepower while the young man took refuge behind a pillar of a broken highway. He tried his best to suppress them, but it was difficult when he didn't have anybody to watch his back. Maybe the Dark Ones would intervene on his behalf like before or maybe they want him to do most of the work all by himself.

When his magazine was emptied, he began to search for more ammo, but there was no magazine left for him to use. Artyom was out of ammo. Still, he did have enough ball-bearings for his pneumatic weapon. Bringing the weapon out, he leaned his head out from the right side of the pillar, only to see three of the hostiles present. The other half must have been going on the other side. As he lined up his sights, the young man waited for one of his targets to get in range as the pillar received splashes of plasma or laser fire. With the pull of the trigger, the stalker watched one of the armored men get knocked back by the forceful impact of his weapon. Then he tapped two more times, only to find his target's head feel the worst pain he could receive.

Now that they were down by a man, he had to secure the other side. As he tried to repeat the same success on the right side, one of the assailants surprised him by ripping the weapon out of his arms. "Shit!" He swore to himself while drawing his knife onto his enemy. Despite removing the weapon out of his control, Artyom took the opportunity to slash at the man's exposed clothing, leaving the man in bleeding scars. His screaming came to an end when he pulled out his auto pistol and shot him in the back of the head.

Then he heard the leader of his people express his frustration. "Motherfucker, you guys can't even stop one person! Get your shit together."

The sounds of footsteps was coming from the opposite side of the pillar, but instead of a person there was a strange green ball-like object that landed near his position. Out of the need to protect himself, the dead man's body became his shield when he felt a strong heat-wave throw him onto the ground. Yet, he could still feel the burning sensation around his body. What was that grenade made out of?

While he groaned, one of the men charged towards him with his laser rifle in hand, but Artyom raised his pistol and emptied his entire magazine into him. Despite the armor protecting his body, the man's lack of a helmet was his downfall. His efforts came to naught when another enemy ran up to him while he tried to pry the burning body off himself. In a single moment, he was met with a boot.

* * *

"Get up!" Shouted an angry man when Artyom was awakened by a boot to the gut. The young man writhed in pain as his arms began to cover his stomach. Then a fist found its mark on his face. "That's for killing my men, asshole."

When he looked up, he saw the armored dark-skinned man looking down on him with his energy weapon aimed at him. However, he stepped aside when a lithe figure with a shaved head had arrived to see him. "Jean-Baptiste, perhaps you shouldn't have open fired on him. A talk would have been good enough."

"He's working with our competition, can't leave no mercy that sort, ma'am."

She expressed a small smile. "Well, you did bring him to me… alive. Even though you had options."

Artyom looked around to find himself out of the desert environment and into an air-conditioned room. Yet, he found himself sitting on the ground beside burnt mannequins while the other side of the room had dozens of armed guards standing beside a whole assortment of advanced weapons. "Where am I?" Was his question.

Jean Baptiste was… dissatisfied with his response. "You don't get to ask the questions!"

His assertive control was immediately gone when he saw the glare of his superior. "Jean-Baptiste, lower your voice. I want to have a word with our guest." The woman approached him with a plasma pistol in hand. "However, he is right in one regard. You are currently on Van Graff grounds. Don't think you can run away from us, it will only give my men the excuse they need to kill their boredom. Now you wouldn't want that now, do you?"

"What the hell do you want with me?" The Russian asked as his back was pressed against the wall.

"It's not you we're after. Are you familiar with the Rose of Sharon Cassidy?"

"Cass?"

"Oh, so you do know her? Why don't you tell us where she is so we can let you go and be on our merry way of getting rid of competition." The woman demanded of him.

Were it so easy, he would have, but a stalker's trust was not something that could be traded away on a whim. Thankfully, his answer was clear. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" A moment later, Artyom felt his left arm endure a painful session as he looked to see the damage done. While he gritted his teeth, the woman looked down on him with a disapproving nod. "I hope that does help you remember."

"I really don't know!" The young man stated. "The last time we met was at the Lucky 38, but that was a while ago."

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but one thing is clear you're going to tell us where this red-headed bitch is one way or another." Then she looked at one of the men beside the table of energy weapons. "Get the incinerator, perhaps the pain might make you talk."

"Understood, ma'am." Acknowledged one of the guards as he smiled with glee. He slowly approached the stalker with this long protruding weapon that spewed fire from the top. "Alright kid, start talking or I'm barbecuing you."

He was terrified of the prospect of being roasted alive. No, his journey couldn't have ended like this. Artyom didn't survive the horrible things in the Mojave just to die in this wretched place - surrounded by strangers who would gladly kill him on the spot. It just could not be this way.

Past the noise of the flames and the cheers of the Van Graff guards, a loud knocking had echoed into the room. This time, the woman who interrogated Artyom was annoyed by the interruption. "What is it?" She demanded. "What is so important for you that you can't turn away a customer away?"

The doors to the building had moaned open as a terrified man spoke up. "Gloria, this ain't no customer." He paused for a moment, allowing Artyom to turn his head to see a bald black man swipe the sweat from his brow.

"Who is it?"

In a single moment, the stalker recognized the voice through the speakers. "The ruler of New Vegas dear." Replied the mysterious Mr. House.

When his eyes looked upon the doorway, there were five Securitrons that were confronted by Gloria Van Graff. "Normally, Securitrons are not usually found running around in Freeside. What brings you out here?" She asked.

"Simple. I have no quarrel with you, but I am here to pick up my employee." The robotic voice answered.

"This man works for you? He's a goddamn foreigner." Commented Jean Baptiste.

"He is also far better talented than the rest of you lot. Wasting your potential selling hand-me-downs." Mr. House remarked, only to agitate the man.

"Listen here." Gloria began, grabbing his attention. "Perhaps we can make a deal-"

Not a moment too soon, the Securitrons presented their weapons without hesitation. "This is not a suggestion. You will hand over my employee or I will do it by force. Don't think I'm not aware of what goes on beyond the walls of the Strip for the House always wins."

"Us Van Graffs will not forget this."

"No, you will not. In fact, you should be honored to be in my presence. Not many ever get the opportunity to meet the man who certainly has every right to remove you from my city." Stated Mr. House.

"Jean-Baptiste, get the man up and let him go."

The heavily armored thug walked over to the wounded stalker as he pulled him off the ground and escorted him into the group of robots. "Thank you, but I do hope a lesson is earned about me."

"What would that be?"

"I am not a man who should be crossed. Farewell, Gloria Van Graff."

Artyom followed these machines while he tried to cover up the burns from that heated shot. The searing pain that was reported to the rest of his body was unbearable. "Ah, this is going get worse if I don't get any help."

One of the Securitrons turned around, but revealed the face of the New Vegas ruler. "Now to business, the first thing I want to know is why didn't you stop the NCR-Brotherhood negotiations? Were my orders not clear enough?"

"No, they were clear, but I didn't want to." It was a bold statement that he said to his supposed superior.

"Excuse me? You did not want to? Did you fall in love with the Brotherhood's ideals or did you accept the ignorance that democracy is a right for everyone in the wasteland?" The man's voice demanded. "Answer me?!"

"The negotiations… they were being overlooked by the Polis Rangers… I didn't want to become their enemies."

"Do you understand how much you failed me? This was one step towards my city and you threw it all because of your feelings for this organization."

"Hell with your city, I'm done working for you. The only reason I entered that building was to get my assault rifle back. Not to be in this line of work." A small silence fell in the streets of Freeside.

"Yes, you only came here for a mere trinket, but without my help you wouldn't got your hands on it in the first place. Without my help, I would have simply left you to die in some meaningless town called Goodsprings." If that didn't suggest he angered the man in charge, it was certainly now. "My patience is growing very thin and I am being very lenient with you. After all, you owe your existence to me - Mr. House of New Vegas. Understand that what I do is for the future of my city and by extension - humanity." The business man stated. "This is an opportunity few will ever receive from me. Consider your choices carefully."

Artyom's eyes glanced over to the surrounding area to see if their conversation was going to be heard by anybody in the city. "Mr. House, I am thankful that you have helped me, but you're asking to go against people I trust. The Polis Rangers saved my people and undermining their duties would only ruin my admiration for them."

"I see. Very well then… you are no longer any use to me." The Securitron that Mr. House was using had brought it's arm from its side and aimed it's barrel towards him. "Considered your contract, terminated." One shot echoed throughout the streets as Artyom stumbled back at the impact of the sub-machine gun round.

It was to the young man's surprise that he was alive at all.

"So you're alive? I should have suspected there was more to that armor than to carry your weapons." He noted. "Nevertheless, these units have enough ammunition."

The first thing on his mind was to flee for his life. "Bozhe moi!" He swore to himself as he ran into the crowd of people while the Securitrons chased after him.

* * *

Freeside's streets were filled with chaos. Patrols of Securitrons had cleared the streets with each unit demanding that they find a man who was now the enemy of Mr. House. For many who lived in his shadow, it was a surprise to know that their leader was still active. For the King, he felt that the man was stepping over his rights. However, there was little his men could do against robots that were armed with machine guns. His supporters came to him, giving him rumors that Mr. House was looking for someone who pissed him off. Whoever that was, he held plenty of pity for the poor guy.

The King was walking with his entourage of bodyguards, but to offset the faces of mankind he had a dog following him. Well… a strange version of man's best friend. The cyberdog walked beside his master while it pant happily in his presence. Despite his appearance, Rex raised the morale of the Kings whenever he was around until now. There was something wrong with the cyberdog. Although he would love to get some help, nobody in his group knew what to do given the technology made for the creature.

When he approached the doors of the Old Mormon Fort, the King looked at his men and addressed them. "Everyone, remember to show some respect to the Followers. I don't want another incident like last time." The majority of his people had nodded their head at his advice before they walked through the doors.

Upon entering the ancient perimeter, the Kings were met by a wall of sandbags and a group of mercenaries manning their positions. "It's okay, I'm looking for Julie Farkas."

One of the mercenaries nodded. "Alright, you can go through."

The party walked through the small condensed strip of land while those who dwell within these walls had nodded and acknowledged the King's presence. Most of these people were his own citizens who looked up to them to deal with outside matters such as the NCR. As he walked past the tents, the patients of the Followers had smiled from their mattresses until he stumbled upon one tent. Then he recognized the woman's distinct hair style when she came out. "Julie? I need your help."

The woman in the white lab coat had looked over her shoulder and spoke up. "Arcade, do you think you can nurse him back to health?" She asked.

The King looked past her, only to see another Follower of the Apocalypse have a doctor's bag beside him. "Don't worry about him, I can handle it."

"Alright, what do you need?" Julie wondered.

"Something is wrong with Rex and I'm sure your people know a thing or two about his stuff than I do."

She knelt towards the dog to see the creature lick her face. "Are you sure there is something wrong with him?"

"Yeah, every now and then he's acting up and whimpering - like something is hurting him."

"Arcade?"

The doctor removed his tools from the wounded man in the strange uniform and glanced at the Rex. "Now I certainly don't know how to help your cyberdog out, but I do know someone who can."

"You do?" The King asked. "Mind telling me where my boys can find him?"

Arcade shook his head. "He likes his privacy, but I can bring Rex along and try to check him out." Then he turned his head towards the wounded man. "Along with this guy."

"Who is he?"

"Someone House has been looking for. I'm going to see if I can get him away from this place before the Securitrons put any more nine millimeters in him." The doctor replied. "Don't worry, I'll see what Rex is diagnosed with along the way."

Happy with the results, he smiled and acknowledged his suggestion with a nod. "Okay Rex, go with the the big strong doctor. He's going to need your help more than he does."

* * *

Marcus remained vigilant in his duty to protect Jacobstown from the humans who hated his kind. Tiresome as it was, it kept the rest of his kin from doing something stupid while it allowed a human doctor to help the Nightkin deal with their schizophrenia. The super mutant knew that this duty had its boring moments, but the pain was worth the peace - even for a moment. Most humans wouldn't have known anything about this place; however, the New California Republic did and they occasionally sent squads of mercenaries into these hills just to lower his people's numbers. Thankfully, being a former lieutenant of a great army a long time ago had taught him that negotiation and having a good eye was useful.

His thoughts ended when he noticed several figures in the distance - did the NCR send more mercenaries after the previous group? Upon further inspection, he was greatly mistaken when he recognized the labcoat of the Followers of the Apocalypse and familiar armor. A cyberdog followed after them, but as they approached him he recognized their faces. Odd how people met sometimes. "Dr. Gannon, it's good to see you again. What brings you to Jacobstown with this young man?"

The Follower smiled while he walked beside the Russian. "I need to see Dr. Henry. He might know a thing or two about cyberdogs more than I. As for my patient, Mr. House is hunting him down in New Vegas and I decided to bring him up here for safekeeping until he can stand on his two feet again."

"I take that you didn't have problems with the cazadors?" Marcus wondered.

"I didn't have to worry about them. Rex is quite capable of handling them than I expected." The doctor answered. "Is there a bed I can use?"

"Yes, follow me. There should be a room for this man. I do hope he survives his wounds. He did me a great favor." He replied.

"How do you know this guy?"

"We met at Black Mountain after he spoke with the Brotherhood while they were negotiating with the NCR."

"Great, I might have painted a target on my back for running around with a political enemy of House." Gannon commented.

A small laugh was all the super mutant could offer. "Indeed, but I hardly doubt he will ever turn his eyes on a place such as this."

* * *

Camp Golf had become a beacon of activity for those in the camp. The Rose of Sharon Cassidy had listened onto her Pip-Boy that the arrival of the Russians was starting to change the Mojave for the better. Hopefully, the trading would have improved because of that, but to see genuine Russian soldiers in the same camp as NCR soldiers was surprising. She had once slept with a soldier once and he told her that Camp Golf was considered a place where careers go to die if one was not a Ranger.

Being in Pavel's company was fun - hard to ignore the comedy of a communist officer who had a strange sense of humor. That being said, he ran off to help some poor squad fix the simple fact that they couldn't aim for shit on the firing range. Alone at last, all she could do was sip whiskey off a bench and watch soldiers go to and fro. As she looked down from the hill, she noticed an old man on her left brewing a teapot above a fire. For an old man, he seemed resourceful.

Her time with Artyom had told her that they enjoyed tea as much as their moonshine, perhaps they might some of the stuff that her companion was capable of creating. She rose up from her seat and walked up to the old man by the fire. "Hi, are you making mushroom tea?"

The stranger seemed surprised by her question. "How do you know about my Exhibition tea?"

She sat down on the ground across from him. "A friend made some for me whenever I make moonshine."

He expressed a smile. "I see. What was his name?"

"Artyom."

The old man was frozen in place, his face drained of blood. "How do you know that name?"

"You know him?" Cass asked with wonder.

He nodded his head. "Yes, he is my boy."

* * *

Author's Note: Finally! I'm quite happy that I managed to get to this point of the story arc - especially with that scene in the end. Now the plot can move from this point on.

* * *

 **iloveTanks** : I have already seen the video. Next time, please post an actual review.

 **Aren** **serathy** : Yeah, he's kinda up there with Lily and Rex. Good characters, but they don't really make good companions.


	44. Chapter 44: Legacy

Earning the loyalty of the Great Khans was a difficult task. It required the removal of Papa Khan in order to sway them away from the Legion and over to an independent New Vegas. Angelique certainly did not reveal her NCR Ranger background as it would incite a violent reprisal for the things her nation did to them after the tragedy of Bitter Springs. Knowing they wouldn't fight alongside the NCR, perhaps they would do better if they fought alongside someone else, but not Caesar's Legion - they were a force that did not accept any tribe to exist under their rule. Memories of her past actions against the Legion had resurfaced after years of departing that hell hole that was once called Hopeville. It was certainly a pity that she couldn't try and save that place from being destroyed - the NCR's logistics for the Mojave went to the shitter after the event.

The courier approached the perimeter of Camp Golf to see it far more livelier than she expected. As she continued to make her way towards the entrance of the camp, she ignored the signpost above her and noticed there were more soldiers than she expected in the camp - many who wore different uniforms than the standard NCR one. Her search to find her people did not go far as Angelique saw a girl with her scars and a Brotherhood scribe in her robes. The latter waved at her and called out her name. "Angelique! Over here!"

She hastily walked faster and met with her companions and smiled with joy to see they were still together. "Hello Veronica, I see Artyom managed to get his message to you. Is he also here?"

"No." The scribe answered. "He kinda disappeared after he spoke to Christine; however, we did meet with Cass and Pavel along the way. What's with this special rendezvous that we're doing?"

"I'll tell you once we all find a private place to talk about it." Angelique stated while her plasma rifle rested upon her shoulders.

"Is it finding dangerous technologies just like the Sierra Madre?"

Her lover began to intervene on the conversation. "Veronica, we talked about not talking about that in public spaces. You know how people could start asking questions? I'm not comfortable about that topic floating around."

"Alright." She admitted. "I may have opened my mouth too many times, but I need it to explain why my girlfriend has all these scars on her."

"Be considerate." Angelique stated. "I wouldn't be comfortable if any of you started talking about my past that gave me painful memories either."

"Thanks." Christine replied. "Now we did try to get Pavel and Cass together, but it appears that they're meeting someone important in the camp. I don't know who it is, but his guards told me that they're having a personal conversation about someone dear to him."

"Really? Did any of them tell you?"

The Brotherhood assassin shrugged her shoulders. "No, they said it wasn't any of our business."

Out from the busy activity of the camp came a young man with a goatee on his face and a cap on his head. The stranger walked up the trio of women while he lugged around a strange makeshift submachine gun. In fact, it almost looked like one of the weapons Artyom once had. "We got company, I wonder what this could be about?"

"Likewise. I hope it's not another one of those catcalls Veronica and I have gotten ever since we got here."

When the man in the strange green shirt had arrived, he took a quick glance at the trio before smiling. "My commander wants to have a word with you."

"Who are you?" The courier asked.

"You can call me Eugine. I'm not much, but I am part of a big outfit in this camp."

"Are you part of all these foreign soldiers here?" She wondered.

He shook his head. "Not all of us. Most of them hail from the Red Line or the Fourth Reich in the Metro." The young man said in his Russian accent. "Some of them might even be Polis Rangers, but the rest are from independent stations who have nowhere else to go. Just curious, do you know anybody who goes by the name of Cass?"

"Yes." The trio said in unison.

"Huh?" He seemed puzzled by their response.

"Is there something wrong?" The courier wondered.

"Artyom seems to be making friends with a lot of women."

Veronica was quick to speak up. "Just so you know, Christine and I won't swing your way."

"Oh? That's still a lot of lady friends though."

"Enough talking, just take us to her right now. We got something important to deal with."

"Okay, okay. I'll bring you over to Sukhoi."

The trio of women were quick to accompany the Russian as they strode deeper into the camp. Their arrival did not go unnoticed by the others, but their attention went returned back to their daily lives while Eugine brought them into a small tent atop of a hill. Angelique was surprised to find Cass drinking from her cup alongside an old man at a table. The old man turned his full attention towards the women that entered his presence and expressed a warm comforting smile. "So these must be the women my boy has befriended. After speaking with her, I'm happy that he's in good company."

The courier returned the favor with her smile before a curious question came up. "Cass, who is he?"

The caravaneer finished drinking her cup and placed it on the table before her. "Ladies, meet Artyom's adoptive father - Sukhoi."

"Please introduce yourselves, a friend of Artyom is a friend of Exhibition."

Angelique stepped forward as she slipped her energy weapon over her shoulder. "My name is Angelique Richmond, I'm a courier and also an NCR Ranger."

He nodded his head in approval. "After being in the company of your ranger commander, it's good that we're both on good terms." Then he turned his full attention on the two women.

She took a quick glance at her companions, only to see Veronica shyness come forth. "I'm Veronica and my girlfriend is Christine - we're both from the Brotherhood of Steel. It's nice to meet new people, I say."

Sukhoi laughed. "Indeed, but you shouldn't say both of you are together. Although my people are not Nazis or Reds, it's a topic most Russians generally frown upon."

Then Christine spoke her mind. "If that's the case, they can go fuck themselves. I love Veronica and if they have a problem with that I'll introduce them to my fists."

"I don't think starting a fight would be… productive to change their mind." He said. "It's more like a something worth informing as most of us don't like it. The people of Exhibition station tend to be more welcome that most back home, but not all of us tolerate same-sex relationships."

"Man, you sound like my family - always yapping about how wrong it is." Veronica commented. "So what brings and old guy like you around here?"

"Blame the Legion." The old man answered. "Ever since they pushed us out of Exhibition, my people and I were forced to become refugees. Thankfully, Colonel Miller and the Polis Council took pity on us and decided to resettle us over in a place called Vault 3. In the meantime, we make up for the cost by sending volunteers to help fight this war."

At the mere mention of Vault 3, Angelique recalled that the place was occupied by a group of chem-addicted raiders. "Wait, Vault 3 is currently occupied by the Fiends. That's completely suicide."

"Was occupied by the Fiends." He corrected her outdated information. "The Metro Coalition and the NCR started a joint operation to get rid of the zjulik living there."

"How? The NCR wasn't able to get rid of them for a long time."

He shrugged his shoulders before it was followed by a response. "I'm not the person you should be talking to. Colonel Miller knows more about that operation more than I do. My job is to just get my people to a safe place." Then he glanced at the caravaneer. "More tea?"

"Yes please." Answered Cass.

"Now then, what brings you young ladies in a place such as this. I know it's not because of my son, is it?"

The courier smiled. "Actually, your son and I were supposed to meet here after we get done with our tasks."

"Really? It would be good to see him after his disappearance."

* * *

Artyom slowly opened his eyes to see the bright bright light shine through the windows. After being drugged to sleep to not feel the pain, the stalker felt sore throughout his entire body as he felt the urge to itch his wounds.

A man spoke to him. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The stalker raised his head to look around, only to find himself in a busy room. "Where am I?" Then he was met by a doctor with blonde hair and green eyes. "Did you patch me up?"

He smiled. "Yes I did. My name is Doctor Gannon, but you can call me Arcade." The medical professional introduced himself. "The Followers of the Apocalypse found you outside of Old Mormon Fort. You're lucky. House was looking for you and I was the one who brought you to this place for your own safety."

"Thank you. You have no idea how much you saved me from that guy."

Then a question came at him like a gunshot. "So what did you do to be hunted down by Securitrons?"

"Well… Mr. House - my former boss - wanted me to undermine the efforts of my heroes." The Russian answered. "His response was a gun to my face. I was lucky that the kevlar saved my life, but it hurts like hell."

Arcade grabbed a chair from nearby and sat beside his bedside. "Now that you mention it, the armor is messed up."

"What?" He wondered.

"That armor you were wearing seems to have been worn down at this point. If I were you, I'd invest in some new armor because it doesn't look like it'll protect you any longer. It's encounter against House's securitrons have shown it's on its last legs."

This was the armor that Hunter gave to him. Sad how he was going to discard a memory of the man who threw himself into danger just to save his people. "I guess there is so much it could handle." Artyom stated. After his adventure in the wasteland, he thought of that armor which was once worn by another person whose ghostly figure still haunts the valleys of Zion. "Shit!"

"Is there something wrong?" Arcade asked. "Do you need any pain medication?"

He shook his head. "No, some of my belongings is still in New Vegas. I think I left it behind or the Van Graffs took it."

"Damn, you are really in a pickle. Wish I could help, but I am a doctor."

"No worries, you fixed up so that should count."

The doctor smiled as he rose up from his seat. "In the meantime, I'm going to see if Henry can help you out a bit." Then he departed from the bedside and made his way towards the old man and the ghoul working alongside a nightkin with a funny hat.

The wooden floorboards ached with the heavy weight of another entering the room. A green giant walked up to him, but the Russian recognized him immediately. "Marcus? Is that you?"

He nodded his head. "Yes. The last time we spoke to one-another, you still had weapons and a bag. What happened to them?"

Artyom chuckled at his own situation. "I angered somebody powerful and I'm grateful to have escaped with my life. As for the weapons, hopefully nobody runs off with them. Some of them were gifts from good friends."

"Well, I hope I don't intrude on your moment of rest, but there is a guest of yours that has brought a particular attention to me." Stated Marcus. Then he stepped aside as a tall dark creature stepped into the room. Those working had paused their time and observed the abomination greet them with its lengthy arm before approaching the bedridden stalker.

"How on Earth did you manage not to attack the Dark One on sight?" He wondered. There was nothing wrong with having a curious mind, but the young man was confused after being exposed to them for quite a time. What even made him curious was the fact that nobody in the room has drawn their weapons on them.

"I have spent hundreds of years in the wasteland fighting all sorts of creatures mother nature could bring up, but never have I seen these before. It helped us out when the night stalkers came from the caves and attacked the brahmin pens." The supermutant answered. "In all of my experience, it was able to have an entire pack kill itself - making our lives much easier. Strange as these Dark Ones are, my brothers and I were able to let them go. They even impressed the nightkin that they don't want to hurt them without knowing how to disappear into thin air. Which now begs me to question, what do you know about them?"

"Back in Moscow, the Dark Ones were a threat to my home and my people." He explained. "Then they tossed me into this place and here I am. Over time, we were able to understand one-another and I was able to find out that they were trying to find me. The casualties were the result of failed communication on both our people's parts."

"Interesting. Given that this creature doesn't have a mouth, how do you communicate with it?"

Artyom turned his full attention on the Dark One standing before him. "Do you mind helping me with the demonstration?" Without a single word, the Dark One gave him a curt nod of its head and slowly raised its hands.

Reality slowly faded from memory as they slowly closed their eyes. Marcus slumped to the floor while the Russian waited for his moment to leave reality and meet the mind of the giant stranger through psychic means. He found himself in his deepest thoughts, only to hear the supermutant shout within the darkness. "Artyom, where are you? What's going on?" Turning around, he found Marcus looking frantically at his surroundings. Then his gaze found him standing before him. "Artyom?"

"It's okay." He assured him. "At the moment, we're unconscious and managed to communicate to one-another. Had the Dark Ones tried to communicate into your mind, you wouldn't have survived first contact."

"Then how are we able to communicate with one-another?"

"When I was young, I was exposed to them. They gave me their gift and kinda gave me the watered down version of their power." Came his explanation. It was perhaps the simplest way to state it without complication.

The Dark One immediately appeared beside them - surprising Marcus and catching Artyom's attention.

"Now that he has experienced this for himself, let's finish this up."

New thoughts from the creature had revealed itself and it's intentions. 'No… we need to talk… Marcus knows things from a past long ago…'

"What is it talking about?!" The supermutant demanded. "Did you lure me into a trap?!"

"No, I didn't." Artyom replied before he confronted the Dark One. "What the hell are you doing?"

It's gaze turned towards him and a moment of silence fell between them. Then it continued. 'Showing you the Master… and your mother…'

Then the trio found themselves caught into a simple memory that was not theirs. Artyom looked at the surrounding scenery to find man-made living space deep within the confines of the Earth. Bright and active machinery whined to life by processing data throughout the facility. Yet, these byproducts of mankind were covered in strange goo that was littered everywhere. "What the hell are these?"

Marcus spoke in a calm tone. "That's FEV - the forced evolutionary virus - the strains that created me and my kin."

He turned towards him and recognized how much he knew of this odd memory. Then it played out with sirens blaring to life as supermutant soldiers stormed out of a single hole in the wall, only to be gunned down by a hailstorm of gunfire. A woman shouted in the distance as three individuals stormed past their fallen foes. "Max, take point!"

The first to enter through the whole in the wall was man wearing a suit of armor that Artyom had never seen before. Meanwhile, Max's gauntlets lugged around a minigun in hand as he huffed behind his helmet. Then his two other companions followed after him - one was a blonde man with bandages on his arm as he fired his submachine gun at their assailants. "Natalia, do you have the data?!"

Then the last person to have joined them was the woman who shouted earlier. No matter how young she was at this point, the stalker knew who it was. That face of hers was very difficult to erase from his memory, but it was clear that the woman in the vault uniform was his mother.

* * *

Author's Note: Ever since the inception of this crossover idea, I have often wondered whether or not I should include the possibility of Artyom being related to a Fallout 1 character. This decision became settled when I realized I had included hints of this in earlier chapters and with one of the recent chapters. Now that this story has reached this point, it fills me with hope now that I found a way to have Artyom's fate intertwined with the Fallout universe from the very beginning.

To those who are curious about Artyom's mother, her name is Natalia Dubrovhsky - one of three characters the player could choose in Fallout 1. What also helps is that the Metro's depiction of Artyom's mom in the comic kinda matches with Natalia due to the hair style they both share.


	45. Chapter 45: The First Act

A week had passed since the group's arrival at Camp Golf. It wouldn't have taken Artyom this long to get this place, but Angelique suspected that something went wrong during his journey. Then the deployment of securitrons beyond the Strip's walls was decreprency she could not ignore. After an NCR soldier came back to work, the news he brought was enough for Cass to worry when they mentioned the securitrons hunting down a Russian who betrayed House. In hopes of finding him, the courier departed to find him while the others remained in the NCR camp.

Cass brought out her whiskey and prayed that her… love was alive. After she unscrewed the cork, the caravaneer immediately drank it down just to prepare herself for the worst just in case. The woman sat alone in her tent sitting at a desk - thinking about the possibility of losing him to House. Then she heard the flaps open, causing her to look over her shoulder just to find Artyom's stepfather in the company of several men. "Sukhoi, do you need something?"

He nodded his head. "Yes." Then he stole a glance from two men in high-grade armor. "Rumor has it that you run a caravan, is that true?" The old man questioned.

"Why do you ask?" She wondered while turning her chair over to meet them.

Sukhoi turned towards the men. "Most of the Metro Coalition relies on rail lines for logistics, but here in the Mojave we don't have that luxury."

"So you're coming up to me, because I am in charge of a caravan. Are you sure you want me to help you out? There is other companies worth choosing." She explained. "The Crimson Caravan should be able to fix your issues."

"That's the thing. The Hanseatic League doesn't trust them and views them as potential competition. With you in Camp Golf, my trading partners are giving you an opportunity to make some earnings alongside their people. The men beside me are representatives of Hansa."

"I hate to break the news to you, but my caravan company exists in name only. All of my brahmins are killed and I have a hefty reputation of losing employees to raids."

One of the masked men stepped forward with his hands resting on his light machine gun. "While my superiors are concerned about your history of losses, they're willing to take the risk on you. Hansa is offering you a position of fixing our logistics. In return, we will give you free merchant membership into the league… and extend our protection to your caravans."

Cass was dumbfounded by the offer he made. After all of this time in the Mojave, there was a big break for her. The family name no longer had to worry about being tarnished by bad events that were being orchestrated against her company. Like all deals, there was always a catch. "The offer sounds nice, but what do I need to do in return." It sounded too good to be true.

"Like I said earlier, fixing our logistics." The stranger replied. "However, Hansa also does want your help trying to find a decent exchange rate between five-point-four-five military grade ammunition and these bottlecaps. If you can help us with our exchange rate, we would be grateful for your effort."

It was at this moment, the Rose of Sharon Cassidy had found herself smiling at the future. Things were changing in her favor and this time her name had a chance to rise from the sands. The woman found herself standing up from her chair as she reached out with her hand. "You have a deal."

* * *

The memories that Artyom learned from Marcus was something else entirely. His mother was not some simple woman who lived in the pre-war era of Russia. She was just like him, someone who was sent away from their home out of necessity. Unlike what had occurred with Exhibition, he could only feel anger for the man who sent her out and forced her banishment along with the others. The young man could have lived in a place where he didn't have to worry about his life in the apocalypse. It just felt wrong that his mother didn't return to her home.

Relevance between his mother and the super mutant had begun when the stalker found a memory of his mother approaching the house of the super mutant. She knocked on the creature's door three times before it opened and the tall creature towered over her. "Hello stranger. I take you're not from around these parts. I would have recognized your face by now."

She smiled at him with a small nod before her expression disappeared. "May I come in? This conversation needs to be in private"

The muscular creature nodded his head. "Come in, I'll talk with you."

Upon entering the small house, Marcus led her to a table where they both sat across from one-another. Yet, his eyes seemed to notice the famous uniform that was worn by vault dwellers. Only that this one was worn down in some places.

"You're from Vault 13." He said. "I didn't expect a vault dweller come into my home at this hour."

Artyom observed the memory, only to see a warm smile as if she recalled a fond memory. "Vault 13, I have not been there for a very long time."

"So, what is so important?"

"Marcus, I know you used to be part of a super mutant army better known as the Unity. Is that correct?" The woman asked.

His facial expression changed from a welcoming one into a somber one. "Yes. Why do you ask?"

"Long ago, my friends and I had defeated the Master underneath the Cathedral. After we were banished for being heroes, we went our separate ways."

"You said that you defeated the Master. Who are you?"

"Natalia Dubrovhsky." She answered. "I know digging up memories of the Unity might make you uncomfortable, but since you have peacefully made super mutants a… tolerable race around these parts I need to ask you something."

"What would that be?"

Natalia looked down at the table and let out a sigh. "I have taken refuge in a different world, it's similar to ours, but not the same. The people I'm working with, they've found pieces of the Master and taken samples of him. He is slowly recovering from the loss of FEV biomass he developed back at the Cathedral and the people I'm working with are making soldiers based on some of the information he's giving them. The Master is trying to develop another army - one to surpass your kind." She explained. "Would you try to convince your kin to come together and help me stop him when the time comes?"

With that said, the memory faded away before Marcus spoke his mind. "I remember. This was before my travels with a particular tribal, but she came to me for help against the leader I once served."

Artyom turned his head towards the super mutant. "What did you say?"

"Yes." He answered. "The Master believed that my kin and I were the future of the wasteland, but his mistake costed him everything. In some sense, he realized how much that didn't sit well with the other wastelanders - especially with your mother. If he is still alive, then he needs to be eliminated. There are some who still wish to… carry on his dream, but his intelligence can change the wasteland for the worst." Then he shifted his body towards the young man within this realm of minds. "Seeing as you are her son, do you know what happened to her?"

Silence was all he could offer. Her death had haunted him for his entire life and having to recall such a moment a long time ago was difficult to bear with. However, he understood that Marcus needed to know the answer. "My mother is dead. In my world, she died shortly after the bombs fell."

"I… I am sorry." Based on the somber tone in his voice, Artyom could tell that he was sincere. A rare feeling to find in a wasteland such as his.

The Dark One placed a hand on his shoulder. 'Artyom… Marcus… the Master created us… he wants us to destroy humanity… once more now that he knows we can… reproduce…'

"So what do you want us to do?" Marcus wondered. "It's not like any of us has an army that can find and stop him."

'Means are… elsewhere… First… destroy the Legion… we will find him…'

It was at this point, the two individuals who were invited into a psychic connection with the Dark One had found themselves awakened into reality. This time, Artyom found Arcade Gannon and the other doctors standing over them. "Finally, you two are awake. Honestly, I didn't think either of you would wake up." Then he pushed his glasses up.

"Sorry about that." The Russian apologized. "Psychic powers tend to do that."

"I would honestly be shocked, but I'm tired trying to help the poor cyberdog with his brain." The doctor explained. "Artyom, there is somebody who has been helping me out for the past few days. He also says he knows you."

"Another human?" Marcus asked. "It's odd that we're getting this much visitors."

"Apparently, he knows about this Russian guy more than we do. Said he met in the Moscow Metro."

The young man shrugged his shoulders. "I know a lot of people in the Metro. Does he have a name?"

An old man entered the room with his bag in one hand. Yet, the red bandana and his Mongolian-like facial hair was not difficult to ignore. "Hello young man. It has been a long time since we last met."

To say that he was surprised was an understatement. "Khan, how did you know I was here?"

"Let's just say that in another life, I was good at tracking things down." Then he walked over to Artyom's bedside and handed him the familiar dirty backpack with the empty Kalashnikov sticking out from the inside. "New Vegas had made me curious, but I accidentally stumbled upon your things."

"Thanks. You have no idea how much you saved my life and time."

"No problem." He answered. "Just try not to waste this chance, they are very rare to have in such moments." Just as he came in - the mysterious stranger he had met in the Metro - left the Russian in his room.

When Arcade was alone, he glanced back at him. "Lucky you. None of your belongings didn't get stolen."

Marcus slipped out a chuckled. "If we had a vigor tester, your luck would have to be on the high end of the spectrum."

The doctor scoffed at his comment. "Vigor testors, they're a load of nonsense I say. No machine can determine whether you'll have a lucky life or not."

Artyom reached into his back and searched for anything worth replacing his kevlar. With the armor worn out, the least he could do was try to wear anything that had armor. Out from his backpack came a memory of Zion Valley. The clothes and armor had belonged to another, but it was a long time ago. As he inspected the armor, he noticed a note in one of the pockets. Upon pulling it out, came a small note that was written by Randall Clark. He was just trying to send his final message about being useful to anybody who did find it. Pity that none of the people he protected had come for it… except him. "Doctor, how long do you think I need to recover until I can travel again?"

"Well, you and Marcus did spend a couple days in that coma of yours." He replied. "So you would be safe to travel again; however, do you really want to travel around when there are securitrons looking for you."

"Yes, I got a meeting with some people at Camp Golf. It's important."

"If it's that important then go ahead, but I recommend that you avoid getting yourself in a near death situation. There is so much your body can take." The explained.

"It's okay, I have already wasted enough time sleeping around."

* * *

Caesar sat in his seat, thinking about the future plans for his Legion. The Russians had changed the playing field for the Mojave. It became clear that their efforts with the New California Republic had only strengthened their hold over Hoover Dam. He had hoped that the Fiends would make their logistics difficult, but he underestimated their rapid redeployment after their destruction. The Legion's only hold across the Colorado River was the captured NCR outpost and the raiding slave camps south of them. While they were out of reach and mind of the republic, he considered the possibility of the proactivity of the NCR allies.

Two of his useful assets had entered his presence after they had opened the flaps. He could see Legate Lanius' disdain for Vulpes Inculta. Despite his views of subterfuge and infiltration, Vulpes was needed to undermine the efforts of the NCR. "Great Caesar, I bring ill news from the war." Spoke his agent of unconventional warfare. "Our forces at Nelson have fallen."

Lanius turned his head towards him - his mask hiding away his growl. "You dabble too much in cowardice that our foe has won this minor skirmish." He stated. Then he looked at his leader with his head down low. "My lord, give me a detachment and allow me to personally kill your enemies in your name."

"No." Caesar answered. "Lanius, you are my best warrior and commander. Your skills are best used to deliver the decisive blow against the NCR when the time comes. While your presence would instill fear into the ranks of the profligates, it would only alert them for our plans at Hoover Dam. We still retain the advantage of the initial strike." The leader of the Legion glanced at Vulpes. "Vulpes, I had expected much from your agents. Why did they not report their plans?"

Vulpes Inculta looked up at him. "The NCR have been purging our agents in their ranks. They are well-aware of what goes on in their midst. Now taking any action and receiving intelligence is limited due to their assistance from the foreigners. Ever since their arrival, it appears they are experts in counterintelligence."

"I see. This must be the first real obstacle you have faced in a very long time. Although your report is lacking, the enemy has also revealed one of their strengths. Which means you must find other ways to undermine their efforts. See to it that you encourage the dissolute who are discontent with the profligates. We still retain some influence within the strip."

"Yes, my lord. Your will shall be done."

The infamous killer of Arizona had spoken. "Great Caesar, when will we continue our war with the enemy? Mars demands blood."

"Indeed it does, but Mars also values patience in warfare. There is a dissolute - one who knows enough secrets to destroy the enemy. After he renders to me a great service, we will begin our offensive and New Vegas will submit." He explained. "Until this dissolute arrives, ensure the troops continue their preparations as our forces are inspired by the priestesses of Mars."

"As you command."

"Good, both of you are dismissed. Return to your stations." After the commanders left their leader and his praetorians, Caesar felt a strange feeling inside his head. He covered his forehead to ease the symptoms, but it had only worsened compared to the earlier weeks.

He had miscalculated the Russians. These people - the people of the Third Rome - had found a way to setback his intentions whether it be by intelligence or on the battlefield. There should have been more reconnaissance in the tunnels instead of complete open war against the Russians. Now they were effectively prying his Legion's grasp in the Mojave. The possibility of recruiting them against the NCR was there, but it would only hurt his appearance towards his armies.

The strange feeling inside his head continued and all he could desire was some good sleep. He'll have to think about his plans in the next day.

* * *

 **Aren serathy** : I haven't played _Metro Exodus_ yet, so I can't really make a comment.


	46. Chapter 46: New Bounderies

Two snipers waited at a gas station for their meeting. Ever since Boone had officially returned to military service, he found himself in the company of the Russian sniper who just so happened to be a daughter of an important officer. Both of them were in Novac just to continue providing a defense for the locals in case the Legion dared to make an attack on the town.

The NCR sniper scanned the surrounding area, only to see sand and gravel. However, he noted several figures approaching Novac from the North. "They are here." He said.

Then Anna took the lead with her anti-material rifle in hand. "Let's go meet them."

When the two groups found themselves on the edge of town, Boone noted the red berets and the symbol of the unit he fought with. "Snipers. It's good to find good company, once again." Yet, they were not all NCR snipers. One of them was a man who wore strange gloves made out of animal skins. "Who are you?"

"He's a communist sniper." She commented. "I've seen their sort before. Been awhile since I've encountered his sort."

The stranger seemed to be offended by her. "My name is Timur Glazkov. I've been sent alongside Lieutenant Gorobets as goodwill between peoples from my superiors within the Red Line." He replied. "While our comrades are busy staring down the Legion on their side of the Colorado River, it is our duty to cut down their operations south of Novac."

Boone wouldn't consider this moment for sadistic pleasure, but the orders from command to hunt down the soldiers of Caesar's Legion made him smile. Long had he waited for his time to whittle their numbers through small cuts. He had every good reason to mercilessly kill them without remorse. "It means we get to kill the Legion."

The NCR lieutenant stepped forward. "Essentially. News of what happened to Camp Lamplight and Nipton have reached the republic. A large number of Legion agents and slavers have been operating throughout the vicinity that we even lost one of our ranger stations nearby. Command wants them to pay and we will oblige by being the last thing they will ever see. Now we are hunting down Legionnaires, but this serves another purpose. The enemy has a location on this side of the Colorado that they are operating from and we need to drain those men in keeping that place unguarded."

Anna spoke her thoughts. "Is there going to be a major operation in the future?"

He nodded his head. "Yes. There is going to be a joint operation by both the NCR and the Russians to deal with them. We just have to become a thorn in their side for the time being."

"How about military supplies? There is so much we can do until we run out of ammo."

Timur was quick to reply. "The Hanseatic League is going to turn the defunct ranger station into a supply zone for our sake. All we just need to do is kill the enemy."

"So when do we start?"

"Right now."

* * *

When the Fiends were destroyed, Simon and Petrovich were now jobless. The lack of a threat had only made their prospects of employment even worse now that they were no longer needed. However, a certain NCR scientist had sent them to a place called Vault 22. Despite their economic situation and their loot of equipment from dead Fiends, they regretted their decision to accept the job.

Petrovich unleashed the fury of his flamethrower within the caverns while Simon swept an entire area with a newly-acquired shotgun he had looted off a dead Fiend. Both wearing gas masks out of fear of what would happen if they were exposed to the creatures that surrounded them. "If I had known that we would be fighting dead people and fucking plants, I would have said no."

"Quit your complaining and burn these fuckers." Simon cried out. "Let's just get this over with and pray to god they have showers in New Vegas."

The human-like creatures lunged after them, but they were cut down by the firepower they carried as their corpses were littered across the ground. Their numbers immediately died in droves as the duo breathed quickly and scanned the caverns with their weapons at the ready. As the fires died down, both turned on their flashlights to see battle they had fought there. "This better be the last of them."

"Don't be so sure. There seems to be a lot of things going around here."

To their surprise, they heard a voice call out to them. "Hello? Is anybody there?"

"Petrovich, do you hear that?"

"Da." The flamethrower replied as their flashlights scanned the place. "Is that a survivor?"

Their lights looked around - hoping to find whether the person did survive this place. Then they saw a horrific sight of a flayed woman approaching them in a white blouse while a duffle bag was hanging from her shoulder. "Never would I think that I'd see someone other than myself. I take it that Dr. Hildern sent both of you."

"How do you know?" Simon wondered.

"You know those bodies you've been fighting. They're the remains of the others he's sent. You're not the first people he has sent."

"Yeah, your friend told us about it. We didn't think much until now. Who are you?"

"Angela. She's a sweet soul." The woman commented. Then she shook her head and walked closer to the Russians. "My name is Dr. Keely - I'm a field researcher for the NCR. I got to say, you're not from around here."

Simon lowered his combat shotgun and nodded his head. "Yeah, we get that a lot. My name's Simon and my friend with the flamethrower is Petrovich."

"Well, I've been here longer than you and I have determined that whatever research was here needs to be destroyed. It's too dangerous to be used by the NCR as the researchers became infected based on the terminals throughout the Vault."

"I agree. Is there a way we can stop this?"

"Yes." Keely answered. "Before I was trapped in these caverns, I located a place where these fungal spores were seeping out. This is the same stuff that infected the people living here, but the source is in the same level as the data room. First, let's get to the elevator. I have something that might kill the spores."

Petrovich was quick to move ahead. "Let me clear the way. There might be some more in the grass."

The party slowly left the dark caverns, only to return to the remains of human civilization. However, the stalker ahead was burning the plants that littered the hallways of the vault. Some spots contained a creature or two, but most of these invasive lifeforms found themselves incinerated to a blackened crisp. When they arrived at the elevator, Keely rushed forward to the control panel. "Give me a second."

The Russians turned around to see whether there was anything else coming out to kill them. Simon hated to admit it, but fighting mantises was terrifying than they appear. The fact that they would fly at him with quick reflexes made it difficult for him to bring up his shotgun. Thankfully, the noises when they first arrive were no longer there to discomfort him.

A bright light flashed above them, expressing the elevator's status to the stalkers. "It's working."

When the group reached the second floor, Keely led them into a room with a terminal on a table alongside a bandolier of grenades. "Is that what we need?"

"Yes. However, I need to ask you something."

"What would that be?" Simon wondered.

"Allow me to destroy the data. I know Hildern promised both of you some wealth, but no amount of caps should be paid for this kind of research. It is too dangerous to let it loose if someone screws this all up." She explained. "I know your jobs are on the line, but for the sake of humanity would you do this?"

Petrovich set his flamethrower down. "Sure. Fighting these fuckers are a pain in the ass to deal with."

His partner was taken aback by his quick decision. "Hey, you didn't let me consider this as well."

"You saw what happened down there. The amount of bullshit both of us had to go through. Shit, I went through half of my inventory to burn those hallways."

"We also need money."

Keely spoke up. "Don't worry about the money. I have my connections in the OSI. I'm sure we can find a way to repay you for dealing with this matter."

"See." Assured Petrovich. "Something good might come out of this."

The ghoul grabbed the grenades and handed it over to him. "The detonation should kill the spores, but for the sake of humanity this information needs to be destroyed."

Simon let out a small breath and shook his head. "Alright, you've made your point." He said, grabbing the grenades. "Let's go burn some vegetables."

* * *

Artyom trekked into the wasteland with his auto pistol holstered by his hip. His head encased by the helmet that once belonged to another. It's green eyes were the only feature that allowed him to see the world. Still, it was a pity he had to leave behind the armor. Hopefully, his head wouldn't take any gunfire alongside every part of his body.

The stalker did not travel alone as his doctor followed him. "As your doctor, would it be better for you to stay and rest instead? It also might be easier to monitor your life signs."

They followed the road into the outskirts of New Vegas, their arrival earned the attention of the guards there. However, they lowered their weapons when Artyom raised his empty hands. "While I would listen to you, my meeting with some people in Camp Golf is priority."

"Is it related to you angering Mr. House?" He wondered.

The Russian let out a chuckled. "Yep. We're going to plan on how to get rid of him. Change things up a bit."

"I really don't see why it's so funny to you. People might suffer if you do change the leadership." Arcade replied. "Why do you care about New Vegas? It's not like you're from around here."

"You're right, I'm not from around here, but I don't really have anything else left." Artyom explained as he walked up a path to a side of a cliff. "This place - New Vegas - just seems like a good place to settle down and possibly start a life if I'm going to be honest to you."

He was surprised by his reaction. "You're thinking about settling down in a place where raiders roam the desert and villages get cut down by mutants? That is somewhat disturbing."

"I've been living in tunnels for twenty years, I'll be damned if I go back in the Metro - even if I'm going to be leaving Moscow behind. That's why I need to go to this meeting. If I can make life a bit easier for myself, maybe I might make it easier on everyone else."

The doctor stood beside him with his hands on his hips. "Now I remember why I decided not to leave the city. I miss the times when I didn't have to walk."

Artyom looked around the corner of his eye to see a weapon holstered underneath Arcade's lab coat. "For a doctor, you seem well-armed."

He was taken aback by the observation and immediately hid his weapon underneath his lab coat. "Oh, it's nothing. I found it off of a dead guy before I joined the followers. He seemed to carry a whole arsenal of energy weapons. Decided to keep one for myself."

The strange presence of the Dark Ones echoed into his mind. 'He doesn't speak the truth… he's nervous… haunted past… like yours…'

The stalker let his Tihar hang from his neck. "You're afraid to tell me. Don't worry, I'm not from around here - so whatever secret you have is safe with me."

Dr. Gannon stared at him. "You could tell?" His hand reaching for his energy pistol. "How?"

"Remember the Dark Ones? They can read into people's thoughts and they're telling me you're afraid to talk about it." He answered. "Don't worry, I have my skeletons too… enough to damn me if my fellow Exhibitionists knew."

His hand slowly moved away from his weapon and let it hide underneath the shade of his lab coat. "Artyom, I need you to promise me that you won't tell anybody about what I'm going to tell you."

"Why is that?" He wondered.

"If you told someone important, they might stir someone else to come after me and my family. I've been running and hiding for my entire life simply because I'm a relative."

Artyom had to give him an assurance. "I swear to you on a stalker's honor, I won't tell this to anyone."

Arcade nodded his head and expressed a deep breath. "A long time ago, my father and my family used to work with these people called the Enclave - they used to be the descendents of the pre-war government officials. However, they were at war with the New California Republic and lost their base of operations. Those who survived the defeat would try to live new lives under the republic, but I heard some went east to find a new place to establish a government." The doctor explained. "Those found out would find themselves arrested by the NCR or hunted down."

After what he had learned, he had a responsibility to this man - to do everything he could not to get him arrested by the NCR. Never had he thought the republic would do this to people. The only other people he could think of were the refugees who fled the Red Line or the Fourth Reich. The best he could do is earn this man's trust and avoid any mention of this to Angelique. Things would become bad if he let out a single word about this doctor. "Alright, I guess not all of the skeletons in our closets are equal, but I will do everything I can not to mention a whimper of this to anyone."

"Perhaps you shouldn't have asked." He replied.

"It would have been better, but there is nothing we can do. At the very least, I can trust you not to shoot me in the back."

"You have a strange sense of humor."

"Mind you, the first person I partnered up with was a stalker who was in debt."

Gunfire drew their attention away from the conversation as cries echoed below the cliffs. "What the hell?" Looking down below the cliffside, the two travellers stumbled upon a firefight of two people running into a small shack beside a barn. However, they were being chased by dirty armed strangers, who were shooting at them. "Raiders. It looks like the remains of the Viper Gang." He added.

Artyom crouched down from his position and started adding air pressure to his weapon. "Let's get rid of them and be on our way. Doctor, I want you to be behind those rocks on their right flank. I'm going to sneak behind them and cut them down from the rear."

Arcade's hand grabbed onto his wrist. "You are injured. Unless you have a supply of stimpacks, you're not ready for combat."

The mere mention of the medicine made him curious as he took his bag off his back and started unzipping it. "In fact, I do have a supply. I just was unsure how to use them properly so I kept them in my backpack."

The doctor crouched beside him as they searched within to find the syringes. "Damn, it looks like you have enough for an entire platoon. Let me give you a few and you'll be on your way. It might help heal your wounds."

"Really?" He wondered, curious about the medical knowledge from this man.

"Yes. Believe me." He grabbed one of the stimpacks and looked at him. "Take off the armor, I'm going to inject this in you."

* * *

Roller - the leader of the Scorpion raiders growled in anger. "You fuckers are going have it! First, we're going to kill your husband and then we're going to have a sweet time with that pretty little wife of yours!" Then he grabbed his revolver and aimed it at the window. "Steve, get your men into the barn and fuck'em in the ass. We'll keep an eye on those bastards from here."

He looked to his left to see the dozens of men circumvent the defenders' line of sight with batons and lead pipes in hand. Then he pulled the trigger to keep their sights on him and the rest of his men only. His bullet shattered the window beside the door as he heard the delicious screams of a woman in terror.

The destruction of the Fiends and their power had let their group thrive as members flocked to their gang to avoid reprisals from NCR troopers who had endured their gruesome firefights or the foreign soldiers who were well-armed to the teeth. He couldn't blame them. It was one thing to fight constables and hired guns, but it was a completely different matter when it came to soldiers. The remaining Fiends who joined his outfit had enough experience to teach his men about tactics despite their usage for their variety of poisons they had with them.

In fact, one of them gave him this gun before he sold her sorry ass to the Legion. Jacobs had expressed an idea of offering service to Caesar's boys in hopes of earning their support and making the Mojave their own. He knew they had a contract when they gave them a large purse of bottlecaps in exchange for their willingness to fight the NCR. Well, he wasn't going to fight the NCR at the moment. More like establish a base and raid off the travelers nearby.

What was supposed to be an easy grab of land had changed when he heard one of his men scream from behind his back. "Fuck, he killed half of us already!"

Roller looked over his shoulder to see what was happening, only to see several bodies of his people lying on the ground. Blood seeped into the sand as his group was cut down by his strange rifle. It didn't give out a gunshot, but quick air thumps as ten men were already cut down by their assailant. Yet, this stranger was different from the assortment of gunmen he fought before. A follower was behind him with an energy pistol in hand, melting those who drew their guns on him, but the man the doctor was trailing was a desert ranger. "Shit, shit, shit." He swore to himself as he pulled back the hammer. Yet, his reaction was slow when he looked around at his gang, only to see himself as the survivor thanks to these two. "I'll see that both of you die for that-"

The leader's attempt to fire back was outmatched by the desert ranger as he drew a strange pistol from his holster and fired away. With each shot, his body fell back with a pain echoing through his entire body. Roller took a good look at his body, only to find himself wounded, but the last he would see of the mortal world was a doctor and the ranger it his green eyes staring into his soul.

* * *

What had occurred in the vault was finished. The spores were burned away by the explosion as two stalkers and a ghoul walked out of door in the shape of a gear. Simon felt relief as he took off his gas mask and welcomed the sun above. "Petrovich, I'll see if I can buy you a new flamethrower when we get back. I promise."

His friend laughed. "Lucky for you. I'm done lugging that thing around. Those stranger weapons that shoot lasers and plasma look like a good deal."

Simon was quick to turn his attention on the ghoul that accompanied them. "I know this is no longer my place to speak, but what are you going to do?"

The woman with the torn skin stole a quick glance from him. "I'm going to give your employer complete hell for sending you in. Be thankful that none of you contracted the spores."

"I know I am." Commented Petrovich. "Shit, I'm not inclined to go into any of these vaults ever again."

"So this is where both of you been hiding all of this time?"

The stalkers were quick to look around, only to find a woman with white hair approach her from the bushes. "Who the hell are you?" Simon demanded.

"You don't remember me? Well, I do." She added, revealing her albino form while underneath her cowgirl outfit. "My name is Ranger Ghost - NCR Ranger - both of you had caught the attention of my superiors and they're thinking about making use of your scavenging skills for later."

"Why?"

"I'll brief you on the way." Her gaze looked at the scientist. "I know you work for the OSI or something close enough, but I won't get in your way. In fact, I'll accompany you along the way. So what happened inside the vault?"

"Something terrible." She answered. "I'm going to tell the NCR that this place does not benefit the republic in any way. More like a threat we need to burn down as soon as possible."

"I agree." Petrovich spoke. "Fighting plant people is not fun."

Simon looked around, but he noticed something slowly creeping up from behind Ghost's back. He drew his shotgun and pulled the woman towards him as he fired buckshot through the vegetation. A mantis corpse exploded when it's body flew across the sands, flickering with life. "I hate those fucking things."

Ghost looked at her would-be attacker. "Fuck me, is that what goes on in the vault?"

"Yep, now let's get the hell out of here. I'm already hating the color green by this point."

* * *

Boats full of Legionnaires arrived at Cottonwood Cove under the flag of the bull. Legate Lanius had been given new orders to lead a detachment from the west of the Colorado and give an opening for the dissolute who would bring down the profligates and their flag of the bear. The priestesses of mars had blessed him this day to kill those who dared to walk in their path. None would we spared by his wrath. However, he had been told not to be so careless about those who would fall underneath the Legion.

Caesar commanded him to take the town of Novac until the dissolute arrives with the key to victory. Whatever this key was, it better be important. Thoughts flowed through his mind about how the town would respond to the attack, but then he realized the possibility of the NCR's response. They would send troops to force them out, which would mean a glorious battle would await.

He stood high and tall from the command post, watching as his soldiers grabbed their guns for the offensive to come. Little did he know about a figure standing watching him from afar.

* * *

Author's Note: This chapter was a slugfest. Hopefully, I make sure that the next few chapters become very interesting indeed.


	47. Chapter 47: The House Falls

A meeting was taking place in order to defeat the Legion at Hoover Dam and potentially remove the threat from the Metro. The officers of the NCR had explained to him that the situation with their current commander - General Oliver. He'd went around to find the opinion of many officers who saw his lack of action as demoralizing while the Legion took massive opportunities to probe the lines and even break through. Whoever thought it was a good idea to have a general infamous for sitting around deserved a fist to the face as he was escorted to the man's office.

The officers and personnel who resided in this part of the dam had taken notice of the Russian commander strolling past the cubicles alongside two of his bodyguards. Some even stopped in their tracks to simply watch them walk by like this was not a normal thing to see. "These people need to get outside more often." He commented. The directions to the war room was quite easy as he was stopped by two MPs standing at the doorway. "Your general is waiting, let me in."

The two men glanced towards one-another before they reached for the handles and unlocked the two doors. Past them was several NCR staff members who discussed various situations throughout the Mojave while a olive-dressed man sat in his seat with his eyes looking around. "Whoever controls Hoover Dam also controls the Colorado. We can't spend troops for these trivial fuck ups some officers can't handle themselves." Then he raised his head and notice Colonel Miller's presence in the way. "Ah, you must be Colonel Miller." General Oliver stood up and grabbed a bottle behind him and several glasses. "Do you want to have a drink over this discussion of mine?"

He shook his head. "No, I just want to see the whole entire situation that is going on throughout the Mojave." Miller replied approaching the large map of the Mojave with planners stopping their suggestions. "We need to allocate forces to the south."

"South?" Oliver said in surprise. "There is nothing of value in the South beyond that radioactive town that is Camp Lamplight."

The colonel walked up to the map to point to a particular spot on the map. "You have a ranger station that has been reporting a camp that has a foothold on this side of the Colorado River. This needs to be destroyed and prevent the Legion from having a chance at harassing the logistics."

"Come now, the logistics guys have all the guns. They should be fine fighting off a few slavers."

"General Oliver, take this seriously. This is not a joke."

"Okay, the Legion has troops there - so what?" He said. "The Hoover Dam has the most strategic value in the Mojave right beside New Vegas. There is hardly anything going on in the south that is worth our attention. Yes, they have a camp there, but whatever patrols are there usually skirmish against ours."

Colonel Miller rolled his eyes. "The ranger station overlooking the camp just told me that there is a massive build up of Legion forces. This is no group of slavers or a raiding party, there is too many troops there. I don't know who this guy is, but that station keeps mentioning their commander who goes by the name of Legate Lanius."

It was at this moment that everyone in the room had fallen silent as General Oliver dropped his glass of wine onto the floor. "Shit."

"I take he's important?"

"Yes, he's the commander on the other side of the dam." Came his answer while he approached the map. "If he's involved then the Legion has something we didn't expect. Okay, I'll allocate some men from the Dam and bring them south to a town called Novac. It should be enough to hold those bastards back." Then he stared at the Russian commander. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to convince the Reds and the Nazis to pitch in, but it is going to take some time."

* * *

Gloria Van Graff stood behind a table which held an assortment of energy weapons of all types throughout that could be found throughout the wasteland. A man in a clean grey tuxedo was looking at his selection as he found himself curious about the plasma pistol placed before him. Although he was taking his time, Gloria preferred that he left the building satisfied and happy just to brag to his friends about the quality of her family's products.

A guard that was stationed outside had burst into the room - earning her full attention. "Gloria, House is back! He says he got a message for you."

This was a surprise. Ever since he threatened that Russian out of her custody, he had not pestered her family's business until now. What brought the enigmatic ruler of New Vegas back into the chaotic place of Freeside? Then she glanced at her customer. "Are you going to buy the plasma gun or not?"

The customer nodded as he pulled out his pouch of bottle caps. "I'm buying. Here, you can take this."

She quickly grabbed the pouch and tossed it to one of the guards protecting this store of weapons. "Put this in the safe." Gloria ordered as she walked away from her station and made her way outside.

A single securitron was waiting outside of the store, but unlike the other versions that had the police face to stare at her - this one was different. A smiling cowboy was looking at her before his distinct voice had captured her attention. "Hello darling, I know you and Mr. House have left on a bad note since you kidnapped his former employee. However, he has a proposition for you."

"A proposition?" She pondered. "What kind of proposition? He is the one who removed any chances to find that damn bitch."

"Not the way I would put it, but my boss has found a way where we can both benefit from this proposal." The cowboy securitron replied. "Artyom is making his way to Camp Golf - which just so happens to be the owner of Cassidy Caravans."

Gloria crossed her arms. "I am listening. What is your proposal?"

"Mr. House wants him dead, but he also wants anybody that is associated with Artyom and Ms. Cassidy as well."

"That's not so easy. The camp is full of NCR troops and their allies. Why are you willing to go so far as to kill him?"

"There is no time limit or designated date to kill Artyom. He'll leave you to dispatch his former employee at your own discretion." The securitron answered. "Would you be fine with such a deal?"

She smiled at this equal exchange. Although it came with risks, she would be able to remove her thorn in the side and earn good favors from the Crimson Caravan. What more could she ask for? "I accept."

* * *

When Artyom and Arcade arrived at Camp Golf, they saw the military camp filled with NCR soldiers and personnel, but the people of the Metro were also there in their various uniforms. Artyom could not help and let out a small breath from inside his helmet. "It's strange."

The doctor standing beside him had turned his head. "How so? You are the one who wanted to come here."

"I know," He replied. "But I find it odd to see my people in this place. It's just so strange that I arrived in the Mojave with little and now I'm about to overthrow the ruler of New Vegas. How things change so fast."

"If it gives you any comfort, you'll be doing everyone a big favor for getting rid of Mr. House. The man hasn't done much for the people of the Mojave. Though there is a question worth asking, who is going to replace him?"

"One problem at a time," Artyom stated. "Let's go. This meeting should have started a long time ago."

Few took note of their arrival, but that was a good thing. The young man wanted to use this ample opportunity to find the people he was looking for - including Cass. Unlike the streets of New Vegas, the camp was far more organized in comparison. The space in which the people idled made it easier on the stalker to observe the surrounding area.

At the center of the camp, his head kept turning to find his friends, but he froze when he recognized the person who initiated the conversation. "Excuse me, but are you two lost or something?"

Artyom turned around to see his familiar childhood friend standing before him. "Eugene? What are you doing here?"

There was a moment of silence between the two Russians as Eugene's eyes shot up like plates. "By god, you are actually alive! I thought for a moment that the Dark Ones killed you back at Exhibition." Then he lunged in for a hug before he released his grip on Artyom. "What have you been doing when you disappeared?!"

His hands reached for his helmet and took it off. "The best I can say is that I've had one hell of an adventure and seen my assortment of weird. It's good to see a fellow citizen from Exhibition alive and well. I heard our station was closed off to the rest of the Metro."

A somber smile was all he could give. "I'm sad to say that our home is gone, but we've survived all thanks to your step-father." Then he glanced at the doctor. "Who is yoru friend?"

"He's my doctor." He replied. "Eugene, meet Dr. Arcade Gannon. He's a member of the Followers of the Apocalypse."

The Russian and the doctor shook hands in their introduction. "Nice to meet you. It's honestly relieving to see someone of great intelligence around these parts. Most of the average civilian I have met apparently cannot read a serial number off their gun. So this is a pleasant sight for sore eyes."

The American was surprised by this information. "You don't have literacy problems?"

"Oh, we do, but it's so often rare that people with illiteracy are running around unless they hail from the outer stations."

"This is quite an intriguing conversation, but I hope that we do not take up Artyom's time when he needs to meet with someone."

Eugene whipped his head around. "Who do you need to meet?"

Artyom slipped his helmet underneath his arm. "Do you know anyone who goes by the name of Rose of Sharon Cassidy or Cass for short?"

"You know her - the cowgirl babe?"

He made a small punch in the man's arm. "Careful, you're talking about my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend? Chyort, I think you hit the jackpot on that one. Almost every guy I know from Exhibition is trying to talk her up. They're going to be jealous of you from now on." Eugene laughed. "Well, I think I've held you up enough. Follow me, she's talking with Sukhoi."

"It's been a while since I've talked with my step-father. So I am a bit reluctant to see him as well."

"You would be surprised."

Strolling through the camp, it appeared that it was separated between the Russians and the NCR soldiers, but there was no fence to keep people interacting with one another. As Artyom looked around, he recognized his people from Exhibition station and they were just as shocked when Eugene saw him. He couldn't blame them since they had every right to accept that missing resulted with death.

Once they were brought up to the large tent on a hill, Eugene spoke. "Here he is. I'll leave you be until then."

Arcade was quick to agree. "Yeah, I'm going to leave as well since this seems personal. If you need me, I'm going to be walking around in the camp."

As they departed, Artyom breathed out a sigh before he took his first step to open the flaps. When the outside light had faded and his eyes had adjusted, the sweet taste of whiskey passed on his lips alongside the hair of fire. "Cass, it's good to see you again."

Her embraced ended as she took a few steps back. "Likewise, but I almost didn't recognize you with the armor on. Why didn't you tell me your step-father was here?"

"Because I didn't know to be truly honest."

Their moment was cut shortly when Artyom looked past his girlfriend to see the old man who carried for him since he was a boy. As his assault carbine was hanging from his neck, he walked past Cass with a fatherly hug incoming. "My boy, I'm glad you are alive!" His arms wrapped around him. "For a moment, I had thought the Dark Ones had killed you when you were on guard duty, but I was mistaken. She has told me about how you got here and your relations with the creatures while you were coming here. I must say, the implications are difficult to take in, but so is going into another world with lasers and power armor. So now that you're here, I hope you won't go so far as to leave us."

Artyom shook his head. "Sadly, I don't have that luxury. Cass and I have to meet up with some people and take care of a particular matter. I can't stay."

"Just how much did you get yourself stuck into? I could send someone else in your stead, would that work."

"No. I'm too essential in the plan to be replaced by someone else."

"I see." He noted. "Hopefully, this does not get you killed in the process. If you need anything, Cass has access to some Hansa equipment that you wouldn't normally get in the Metro."

"Thank you, dad, I appreciate that." He replied with a smile.

* * *

Waiting at the NCR camp had taken its toll on the communist officer, but the things to do in the meantime happened to be productive. Apparently, the NCR sent its poor excuse for troops to this place to waste away in nothingness. The horrors of administration had gotten enough that he had to personally become a squad's drill sergeant. Not a highly respectable position, but it was better than boredom and he knew what would happen when soldiers were bored. "Fire!" Pavel shouted to the top of his lungs as gunfire echoed across the firing range.

Shots from the service rifles made their mark on the targets, hitting the teddy bears and glass bottles with improved accuracy. When the four NCR soldiers were finished, they lowered their rifles as their only female member grabbed his attention. "Thank you, Major Pavel. I didn't think your advice would work on the firing range. Why did you help us out in this situation?"

"There is a simple reason, Mags, I'm bored and that probably includes all of you. If there is anything I know about bored soldiers, it is a disaster waiting to happen." He answered. "Besides, if my people are going to be allies at the very least you all should hit something. How did any of you pass basic training?"

All of the soldiers lowered their heads or turned away in shame.

"Chyort, your republic must be desperate to win this war with such standards. Thankfully, you lot seem to be more open to getting something done."

Before the next instruction could begin, an explosion erupted at the camp. "What the hell is going on?!" Mags commented.

"Ladna, training is over! Remember what I told you about how to shoot, it will keep you alive!" The major screamed at them before he reached for his automatic carbine. "Stay behind me and keep your comrades alive as well." Then he led way with his weapon at the ready.

Upon bypassing the dozens of tents along the way, he noticed NCR and Russian soldiers alike were flocking to the possible attack on Camp Golf. As he got closer, he heard the blasts of buckshot throughout the firefight while hot energy weapons flashed. When he arrived on the scene, he saw Cass back to back with a stranger while firing off as armored men with energy weapons seemed to succumb to their quick responses. The odd thing about the stranger was that he looked similar to the NCR rangers, but he seemed familiar with the usage of the Shambler shotgun. "Pavel, it's good to see you again."

"Artyom?!" The communist officer replied. "Damn, I didn't think you'd survive your encounter with the deathclaw. You should consider yourself lucky that half of the camp is coming to your rescue. What the hell is going on?"

"The Van Graffs ambushed us," Artyom answered. "Luckily enough, they messed up their timing." He and Cass ducked when laser and plasma fire flew overhead. "Down!"

On the ground, the defenders fell to the ground and returned fire upon their assailants. For a moment, the fighting stopped with a man's voice crying out. "Russians, NCR, this is none of your business. We just want a guy named Artyom and a bitch named the Rose of Sharon Cassidy. You all good with that?"

"What the hell is he talking about?" Mags wondered.

Pavel glanced towards the NCR trooper. "I don't know, but whatever happens you do not get up. Wait for the others to help out. Tell your squad to scan the area, they're probably going to flank us on open ground."

One large green explosion echoed behind a hill in front of them as the men who attacked had revealed themselves. In front of them, they could see men in dark combat armor flee from their positions as they turned around to shoot back at their assailants. However, Pavel saw Veronica and Christine jump them with blade and power fist in hand. Despite their armor, it was not enough to simply hold back the two melee combatants from thinning their numbers.

Another figure rose up from the hill they fled with a plasma gun in hand. Streams of plasma made their mark on those who attempted to attack the Brotherhood scribe and assassin - all except one. When the sunlight fell upon her, Pavel recognized the face of the courier who saved them. "Angelique? Shit, this is one way to meet." Then he turned to the NCR squad. "Stand down people, I think our friends got this."

When Pavel, Artyom, and Cass approached their rescuers and their last prisoner, Angelique rested her energy weapon upon her shoulder. "Finally, we're all together again. Before we proceed, let's ask our asshole a few questions on why he was attacking an NCR military camp of all things and why a Van Graff of all people."

The black man spat at her. "Fuck you, bitch!"

Artyom stepped forward and slammed the butt of his shotgun into his back. "That's for ambushing me."

"Yeah, I would have gotten away with it if one of my boys didn't start prematurely."

Angelique approached him with a laser pistol drawn on his crotch. "We are reasonable people. The moment you start talking, the less likely I am to ruin your future chances at a family."

"I am not telling you shit! My loyalty to the Van Graffs comes first and you can kiss your NCR ass goodbye since I won't betray them."

The courier glanced at the Brotherhood assassin with the scars. "Could you have your way with him?"

Christine approached the armored man with her blade, but a man stopped them. "So this is the man who tried to kill my son?"

Everyone turned around to see an old man surrounded by a contingent of soldiers. It appeared that some of them were from Hanza while others possibly came from independent stations. "Who the hell are you?!" The black man demanded.

"You can call me Sukhoi. What right did you have to attack my boy?"

A smirk was all he could give. "Your son betrayed the ruler of New Vegas - Mr. House. He wants your son's head and there is nothing you can do about it."

Artyom's father pulled out a revolver from his holster and shot him in the head. "So this is the sort of business you got yourself into." He said while turning his head towards his son. "You should have told me and I would have helped."

"Dad, it's too dangerous." He replied.

"Perhaps, but given that I have an alliance with Hanza this Mr. House should have known better."

"So much for the stealthy approach," Veronica commented. "People are going to notice about an army marching through the streets of New Vegas."

Sukhoi turned his head towards the scribe. "That's the message I intend to give. Artyom and I have survived an ocean of rats eating stations alive and I'm not going to let this so-called ruler kill him." Then he looked over his shoulder to see the others. "Pyotr, get the marines and get several of the Hanza platoons, we're going to war."

* * *

House looked at the world through computer screens - it was the only thing he could do while his true form remained in a place he so carefully created for himself. Once the conflict surrounding the Hoover Dam was over, he would have to stomp out the NCR and their Russian allies as soon as the Legion fled. However, the lack of physical assistance made his situation even dire to his plans.

Artyom and Angelique were employed to ensure that New Vegas remained an independent city meant for him and him only. It was one of the last pre-war reminders of the lengths he took just to take back his inheritance. With them gone, he had to look for another willing participant in his grand scheme of things. Yet, there was little he could do without exposing the power his Platinum Chip contained since those two had it among themselves. That Van Graff woman seemed promising, but he knew about the agendas of some thug-like family that intimidated anyone who dealt in their business.

His cybernetics had warned him something was happening in the streets of Freeside. Although he normally would disclose it as some criminal incident, people were flocking away from the other side of the checkpoint. A squad of securitrons was sent to investigate as people from all walks of life were fleeing from the gunfire in the streets - even the Kings seemed to be avoiding it by going inside the former building that belonged to Elvis Presley.

When the seat of people was out of the way, his securitrons displayed live images of Russian soldiers storming into Freeside as Van Graff employees were gunned down. Although some had succumbed to the powerful energy weapons, their numbers alone had cut them down as the remaining defenders took shelter in their building. However, they pressed their attacks by shattering windows and tossing grenades within. Their methods were simple, but this kind of harsh violence made any law enforcement by the Kings impossible as those boys simply didn't have the kind of firepower to contest with these men.

This kind of chaos needed to end unless it stirs out of the control. So he ordered his machines to approach the people committed to this attack. As the screens came closer, House recognized Artyom's face among the crowd - wearing desert ranger armor. Then he personally took control of one of the securitrons. "Whatever you are doing, you are to cease and desist from continuing the fighting. I will not have my city in chaos from all of this nonsense."

The next thing he learned was the unit he personally controlled was eliminated. Did they just attack his machines? Hoping he could retain some semblance of order, he took control of the next securitron in the patrol. "I will forget your transgressions if you please tell me what is going on right now!"

An old man stepped out from the crowd of soldiers as he spoke. "You tried to kill my son, I'm not going to let you get away with that."

House directed his securitrons to begin with automatic and laser fire, but the small patrol was not enough to stop these large rifles they appeared to be carrying. Were those anti-material rifles? His machines were not ready to take on such firepower as their bullets seemed to penetrate through the frames and tear apart his units' interior electronics. Just like the Van Graffs, the number of people who were present had torn apart his forces.

This agitated him greatly. Artyom had not simply escaped from his punishment, but he had returned with a force to deal with him. This could not stand and he had to redirect the stationary units throughout the strip to join with the main Strip gate entrance. Although their numbers worked well in such close encounters, the forces he gathered were enough to deter any entrance without massive casualties and they would be funneling into the gunfire.

The civilians quickly scattered and fled from the main street into the strip for it would become a warzone from their perspective. Some peeked out to observe the fighting, but others were quick to convince them to leave the situation before they became casualties as well. Then he noted the several casualties from his units standing on guard at the Strip entrance. Apparently, their anti-material rifles also served as snipers.

Of course, he could retreat into the Strip and fight the enemy there, but the problem remained with those snipers. They needed to be dealt with swiftly or the attrition alone would reduce the fighting effectiveness. However, none of them had any long-range capabilities and without his Platinum Chip in effect, they were sitting ducks against the Russians. There was one solution he was willing to deal with. It would take casualties, but better to take casualties to take out a target than receive and do nothing.

The securitrons slowly advanced up the road with machine guns firing upon the Russians taking cover in the streets. Many were suppressed by the 9mm ammo, but others found themselves stuck by the bullet for being too brave. Now they would have to learn the lesson of fighting machines who knew nothing about fear or morale. The House always wins and no one could stop him.

Small and explosive blasts had damaged the units at the front of the lines, but it was not a total loss. The damaged units could still fight, not as effectively, but neither were they out of the fight. Some of the enemies were still persistent about killing the soldiers when the machines simply did not have the caution that humans had - resulting with situations where men were overwhelmed by a slow advancing force that human spirit could not stand up against. They were retreating and rightfully so, there was little they could do against such organized forces. Was this the ally that aligned themselves with the NCR? If this was their best then they are a poor excuse of allies.

House would have to push them out of New Vegas and regain order in Freeside, but he noticed a detail about the sensors of his units. After his units were away from the entrance to the Strip, he noticed several blinks coming out from one of the alleys and storming the doors. They had played him! He detached a small group of securitrons to return to the Lucky 38 and terminate these trespassers until none of them lived. Yet, they had already penetrated into the strip and were making their way inside.

* * *

It was a good trade to sell his Kalashnikov and Tihar for a Shambler with a box magazine and some American weapon nicknamed the 'All-American' rifle. For what reason the merchants named it, he would never know, but these weapons made his life easier as the securitrons received the wrath of a belt-fed assault shotgun.

When the fighting was over, Artyom had reloaded his box magazine by slipping another belt inside. Meanwhile, Sukhoi took control of his men. "Okay, some of us will have to stay behind and hold off any reinforcements from outside," He glanced towards his son, whose head was hidden behind a helmet. "Whatever you are going to do, finish this."

The courier had nudged Artyom as their companions paid attention to the noise of the elevator. Many readied their weapons to deal with what lies inside. After it had arrived, the elevator opened, revealing three securitrons as they rolled out. One of the machines had a cowboy for a face as he spoke up. "You two should have died at Goodsprings if this is was going to happen, but that's enough talk. Let's draw."

Angelique blasted plasma shots into their systems while Veronica stepped in to shatter an approaching securitron through the screens by a single punch alone. However, the cowboy one was swift to move aside as the Russians unleashed their firepower on the lone machine. After the machine was destroyed, Veronica let out a relieving laugh. "If the Brotherhood found out I was helping a man and a courier overthrow the leader of New Vegas, they wouldn't believe me."

Pavel revealed the situation becoming ever more dangerous as everyone saw him shut the doors to the Lucky 38. "Hate to break the moment, but they're coming through!"

Artyom and Angelique stepped into the elevator before Cass and Veronica joined them. "House is going to be expecting us soon. We might not step out alive." He said.

Cass walked up to him as she loaded her shotgun shells. "It's okay, we'll get through this. That is something you taught me when we were at the Sierra Madre."

Time passed as they waited for the elevator to reach the penthouse, but Angelique spoke. "Artyom, do you still remember that terminal under the stairs?"

The stalker nodded his head. "Yes, it should still be there."

"Good, I'm going to try and hack through the system. I just need everyone else to cover me. Is that clear?"

"Da."

"Why of course." Replied Veronica.

"If we somehow survive this, we are raiding the bar tonight," Cass commented. As the elevator arrived in place, she took the lead. "Someone is going to be waiting for us, I got this."

When the doors opened for the party, the Rose of Sharon Cassidy let off a loud shotgun blast that forced the securitron to flip over a railing and land on the ground. "You're getting used to the Duplet." Artyom admitted.

"Thanks to you, honey." She said with a smirk on her face.

Then they walked out as Veronica lead the way to smash apart securitrons responding to their assault. However, it was not enough to stop a bullet from striking the Brotherhood Scribe. "Ah, I'm hit!" She fell to the base of the stairs as Cass grabbed her from the shoulder and pulled her towards the terminal on the other side of the room. "Christine is totally going to kill me."

Artyom switched for his American assault rifle as slipped his backpack beside the wounded friend. "There are some medical supplies in there. Use it and get to it. Angelique, get to work!"

"You don't have to tell me." The courier replied before unlocking the keyboard and tapping her fingers into the system. "It should be quite simple from my perspective. Just give me time."

A microphone voice echoed into the room, causing the stalker to look around, only to find House's computer to life. "Did you really think you would win in all of this? The inevitable will come and my securitrons will have to sweep away the mess you have created. All of your efforts swept away under the rug while I have to deal with the political fallout you have created."

"Don't listen to him," Cass commented. "He's just sour that we just tricked him."

"Quite a ruse, but it was not enough to go unnoticed by my machines. That being said, more reinforcements are coming and not even your father would be able to handle the force coming to end this poor excuse of a coup-de-ta."

Angelique cried out in joy. "I got it. I'm opening the door to whatever House is sitting in!"

After she had entered the system, Artyom looked over his shoulder to see a wall opening in response to the courier's efforts. When she turned around the corner, she ducked as gunfire poured out in their general direction. "What are we facing? More of them?"

She shook her head. "Just a couple of securitrons and a turret. Don't worry, I got this." Angelique reached into her pocket, only to pull out a grenade of some sort in her hand. "Pulse grenade, this will fry their systems."

When she activated the weapon, her hand tossed it into the room inside as she returned back to the relative safety of the wall. A moment later, an explosion erupted before she jumped out to fire her plasma gun at the enemy inside.

"Clear! Artyom, come over here!"

He did what she said as he entered the room to see broken electronics and machinery lying across the floor. As he walked past their corpses, Angelique finished her us on the terminal beside an elevator. "The computer says that House is inside. Go and finish it, I'm going to see if there are more securitrons lying about in the penthouse and elsewhere."

She departed, leaving Artyom the only one to deal with the ruler of New Vegas, personally.

* * *

When the doors slid open, the stalker's assault rifle was raised while he observed the place he found himself in. The catwalk only leads one way towards the other side of the room, which had a console and an enclosed pod waiting for him. Yet, his presence seemed to inspire fear into the man who taunted him and his companions earlier. "Young man, stop where you are. Do not approach the pod and the console, I'll let you go and never attack you ever again."

It was the complete one-hundred and eighty degrees of what House once showed to Artyom with his complete superiority gone. As he stepped forward, the ruler was beginning to beg more.

"Please, let us reconsider our options. You don't necessarily need to kill me. I can give you the wealth you couldn't dream of. I can give you ownership of the Lucky 38, but do not open that console!"

Artyom stopped at the console just to see the various buttons related to cleaning or termination, but the one he was looking for was the button to open the pod. He needed to see the face of New Vegas himself and confront the man who wanted to hurt the people he adored. The worst offender was that the man who rescued him from the Van Graffs also hired them to not only kill him, but his rose. His hand reached out for the button and pressed it hard.

In light of his decision, the pod released a loud hiss from inside. Mechanical arms began to rise out alongside a body strapped to the table that preserved him. "What have you done?!" The drained corpse demanded. "All of my life's work was in vain and even if you put me back into the pod, my exposure to bacteria will lessen my lifespan to less than a year. Do you realize the future for humanity is gone all because of your short-sightedness."

The young man held the urge to turn him into a corpse. "You tried to kill me, my Cassidy, and turn my loyalty against the Spartan Order." He replied. "What did you think was going to happen?"

He croaked. "Your death. I had plans for humanity, plans to get them out of this poor excuse for a phoenix of civilizations. My plans for the future-"

"Your future." Artyom cut him off. "Are you so out of place of reality that you don't know what motivations people have and what they think of your plans? Do you really think all of humanity would agree with you?"

"Yes," House answered. "The world would have been a better place with me as its autocratic leader, I would have gotten humanity into the stars and we would have regained the legacy of the past."

"That's not going to work. You fail to recognize that this is a reality that can only exist under you and only you. Once you are gone, it won't last. Not even you could outlast time." He countered.

"What would you know? You're an outsider, a scavenger. You cannot comprehend the future that humanity would have gotten."

The Russian reached for the kill switch. "You would be surprised, I've read enough history books to know. Now it is time to stop delaying the inevitable." After flicking the switch, House started screaming to the top of his lungs with bursts of electrical energy springing forth and wrapping around the ruler of New Vegas.

* * *

Author's Note: With House out of the way, I can now focus on the other sets of the story… especially with Lonesome Road.

* * *

 **Aren serathy** : I'm just describing how much of a slug it was to get through the chapter.

 **Paladin Bailey** : Thanks for the review, I appreciate it.


	48. Chapter 48: Render Unto Caesar

News of House's fall had reached the ears of the NCR Embassy in New Vegas and Ambassador Crocker was rightfully angry. Apparently, an NCR ranger was helping the Russians in dispatching the ruler of the city. One could see it uncalled for to bring the person who participated in the coup-d'etat, but he was going to deal with the political fallout of an unsanctioned attack of an independent settlement. Best he talked to Senator Richmond's daughter.

The door to his office swung open as two MPs escorted a fully-armored woman enter the room with their batons at the ready. "You two can leave us, Ranger Richmond and I have a lot to talk about." Without question, the two departed and closed the door on their way out. "We have a lot to unwrap, but why the hell did you join the Russians in overthrowing House? There was no sanction from our military! Explain yourself?!"

Angelique lowered her head. "A friend was being threatened, ambassador. House was going so far as to send the Van Graffs to kill a Russian and his girlfriend at Camp Golf. Plus, we planned it from the start."

"Planned it? Did you come up with a plan to get rid of House without even consulting us on the matter? The rest of New Vegas will look upon this as if we did this and will harass our citizens and soldiers in Freeside."

She rolled her eyes. "I was on House's payroll," The woman added. "In some ways, I got rid of any possible chances of a threat to the republic, because he was going so far as to sabotage the meeting between us and the Brotherhood of Steel alongside gaining the trust of the Great Khans. I don't know what for, but it was clear he was not fond of our presence in the Mojave."

Crocker rubbed his forehead. "Damn it all. What of the securitrons? Are they still active? What about the Russians?"

"Yes, but without House to direct them they started standing down and returning to their duties of over glorified checkpoint guards and policemen at the strip," Angelique answered. "Regarding the Russians, it turns out Artyom and the people who fought alongside them were from a place called Exhibition. The Legion attacked their home and forced them to become refugees so they've taken residence in the Lucky 38 as of right now."

"This could be handled better, but the that is a luxury we cannot afford." He admitted. "With the Legion coming up from the south, we're going to get every assistance you can get. Next time, inform me about something that drastic, I do not like surprises."

"Yes, sir." The courier answered before she departed from the room and made her way out of the embassy.

The ambassador sat back in his chair, realizing that with House gone, the city of New Vegas was up for grabs - whether it be by the Russians, his people, or Caesar's Legion.

* * *

Silence was all anybody could hear in the room as Angelique and Veronica typed away on their keyboards where Mr. House once talked to them. In the meantime, Artyom sat in his chair while the others were celebrating in other parts of the Casino and looting what they could find - save for his bedroom. Yet, he had no time for celebrating when he reached into his pockets and pulled out the mark of Caesar.

A strange electrical noise echoed from the computers. "Okay, I got something. House needed this chip to upgrade his securitrons to actually get rid of the NCR and the Legion at the same time." The courier stated. "Now we can change the tide against the Legion if we upgraded the remaining securitrons and assist the NCR and the Russians against Caesar."

Veronica glanced over from her keyboard. "Really? Is that why House had hired us? To give him this kind of serious firepower?"

"Basically. However, there is a problem."

"What kind?" The scribe wondered.

"The facility to properly upgrade the securitrons is inside Legion territory," Angelique answered. "Unless we can magically get in there, it's nearly impossible to get inside without getting fucked. Does anyone have ideas?"

Artyom took a long look at the mark of Caesar and realized his situation. Perhaps the timing was perfect to get rid of the people who destroyed his home. "I do."

The duo turned around, only for the courier to widen her eyes. "Artyom, where did you get that? Why do you have the mark of Caesar in your hands?"

"A man by the name of Vulpes Inculta had given this to me when I was on my way to Camp Golf. Apparently, Caesar was interested in me. I don't know what to do."

"That's perfect!" She exclaimed. "You can go there and bring the Platinum Chip to upgrade the securitrons. Caesar wouldn't know that he has an army of robots waiting for him."

He scratched the back of his head. "I don't know. You are far more better than installing that than me. Why don't you go?"

Her facial expression changed. "I can't. Caesar meant for you to come only you. It's also not helped when I'm a woman in ranger armor." Her hands gesturing to her cloak surrounded in armor. "You - on the other hand - are not associated with the NCR in any way. It's the perfect reason to get into the Legion camp on the other side of the Colorado."

Artyom became worried. "Give me some time to think about this. I just survived being hunted down by Mr. House, the last thing I need is to be killed at a meeting place."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, I'll give you tomorrow until then. Just don't stray too far. I might get other ideas."

Veronica voiced her concerned. "You know there are better ways than to rush him into a hastily made plan. I'd be worried too if the leader of a group of assholes in football equipment were interested in me."

"New Vegas can't fall to the Legion." She countered. "I'd rather have a bunch of Russian nobodies take charge than to let those people take it."

Without a word, Artyom slipped the medallion into his pockets and proceeded into the elevator. Although his friends and girlfriend were partying at the bar, he didn't want to spoil his moment there. Perhaps he could get some thinking in the casino since few people used that place. After entering the elevator, he waited and quietly thought about the future. There were threats of all sorts that he had to face in order to survive in this foreign world.

When the elevator doors opened, he saw Sukhoi standing near the doorway, but he was talking to two soldiers clad in kevlar and pre-war helmets. "So what you're telling me is that we can't stay in the casino?"

"Yes." One of the men replied. "It would make us look bad in the eyes of the republic since they've been eyeing this city."

What were the Polis Rangers doing here? "Dad, what's going on?" He asked while approaching the conversation.

His stepfather turned around with a short smile before he turned his full attention towards the bearded soldier. "I've been talking to this fine gentlemen. You may not know him, but this is Colonel Miller of the Spartan Order. He came here to investigate our coup-de-dat yesterday."

In the mind young man, he didn't know what to do. To be in the presence of the man who commanded the entirety of the Polis Rangers. Artyom timidly approached the commander. "H-Hello, colonel."

The older man placed his gaze upon him, but reached his hand out. "So you are the man who caused so much commotion that I had to come all this way from a coalition meeting to tell you how much fallout the Order has to deal with? Do you mind telling me why you overthrew the man who ruled New Vegas?"

Artyom glanced at his stepfather, who gave him a comfortable nod of the head. "He was going to kill me."

"Why?"

"Colonel, do you recall of that letting with the Brotherhood of Steel?" He asked.

Miller's eyes widened. "How did you know about that? It wasn't meant to be public?"

He lowered his head. "I'm actually friends with one of them. She is a nice person, but I'm getting off-topic. The reason it should come to mind was because of him. House gave me explicit orders to disrupt negotiations between the Brotherhood of Steel and the NCR, I hold a high respect for the Order ever since Hunter went so far as to help Exhibition. When he learned I wouldn't follow those orders, he tried to kill me. So I formed some plan to try and get rid of him for my sake and plenty of others."

With that reasoning over, the Ranger commander placed his hands on his belt. "Chyort, this is going to be difficult to tell General Oliver and the others. Why didn't you come to us before? Surely you would have received backing to keep this guy off your back."

"Ever since the Dark Ones placed brought me to the Mojave, I thought I was the only one in the desert," Artyom answered. "The odds of finding fellow Russians was impossible until recently."

"So you've been in the Mojave longer than anyone else in this room?"

Artyom nodded his head. "Yes sir."

"For a kid from Exhibition, you did one hell of a job surviving," He commented. "That being said, we're going to be working together from now one. You seem too vital to hand you over to the NCR for questioning."

Sukhoi spoke. "What does the NCR have to do with my son?"

Colonel Miller folded his arms and turns his full attention towards him. "The NCR and House had this stressful relationship with each other. Some treaties were established and both parties were busy making sure they kept their word. Now with House dead, they think he took New Vegas for himself."

"So do they intend to take the city from themselves?"

"Yes. One of my Rangers got enough information after talking up with Colonel Moore about the NCR's intentions." He answered. "They've been eyeing this city ever since their scouts found the Mojave."

"Chyort, so where does that leave us?"

"Our options are few, but convincing the other Metro factions to unite is out of the question. The only reason we're still alive is because we all equally hate the Legion at the moment. Now we can try to support Artyom's claim for the city and help the NCR out from there, but we hardly have the means to enforce those claims."

"Wait, your considering on letting us have the city in the first place?" Sukhoi wondered. "I know our home at Exhibition is gone, we can still manage."

"The Polis Council sees the entire situation differently. New Vegas represents an opportunity to get everyone out of Moscow, although the improvements are small, it is definitely better for the overall survival of humanity. There is so much those pre-war stockpiles could help us until we run out."

Artyom realized how important his role was in the situation he found himself in. It was confirmed that his home was gone, but he had the chance to gain a new one in the ancient American city. Based off the few novels back home, the stalker realized he was almost like every protagonist who was placed in this threads of fate. Is this what the Dark Ones had in mind when they brought him to this place? Odd how he played as an essential role in these times, but that was enough thinking for the time being. If this city was to become his new home, it was time he would find a way to defend it. "Colonel Miller, there might be a way for my people from Exhibition to stay in New Vegas and give the NCR a second consideration into taking the city."

The Spartan Commander snapped his head to see the young man. "What do you have in mind? Since you're the only person here with enough knowledge around New Vegas, it better be useful to both the Order and your fellow refugees."

"Several companions and I have been working up a plan to get something upgraded and give us a fighting chance when we need it."

"Show me."

* * *

Trucks from Camp McCarran had been transporting troops into the town of Novac. The locals were surprised and shock at the number of troopers that were being dropped off. Yet, not all of them were NCR troopers or rangers. Some consisted of Nazis, Communists, and the occasional platoon of Hanza soldiers. Reports of Caesar's Legion mobilising its forces south of Novac had brought great alarm to the men all around. Although some of the more experienced soldiers seemed calm about the situation, Artyom learned that the last time a major battle broke out between the two sides was at the Battle of Hoover Dam.

The kind of history that was carried about the previous battle did little to calm the faces of NCR troopers he was riding with. Apparently, the republic was busy trying to consolidate its gains in the Mojave, but the Legion was just faster at doing some damage to make life difficult for the Californians. He couldn't blame the scarred looks on the faces of the men. After all, none of them faced the horrors of the Sierra Madre or participated in the bloody fighting alongside a former legate.

When the trucked halted at the gas station, he could hear the driver yell out. "Dismount people! Grab everything you need cause if you don't, it ain't coming back!"

Nobody hesitated as they grabbed their weapons and equipment before jumping out from the back of the truck. With his American rifle hanging from around his neck, the stalker looked around to see if Colonel Miller followed him into the town of Novac as well. Like a lost puppy, he looked around to see the NCR troopers go to their designated squads and platoons before sergeants and officers took them away. "There you are. For a moment, I thought you were still back at the assembly area. Would have been embarrassing to go in a circle."

Artyom turned around to find an older Polis Ranger with his helmet underneath his arm. "You're the colonel's lieutenant, am I right?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Just his friendly face in the army, but that is enough of that. My name is Uhlman, I'm going to be getting you as close as I can to the Legion lines and letting you go."

"Well, when do we start?"

"Soon." Uhlman answered. "Should have taken some shots before we do receive them, our drunkenness might actually throw any potential snipers… if they have any to begin with."

Artyom slowly smiled as he reached into his backpack and pulled out a glass of whiskey from within. "Now that you're mentioning drinking, my girlfriend packed this for me, but I can share. It's not like I can hold my glass anytime soon." Then he reached for the cork and pulled it out.

"Your girlfriend packed you some alcohol, I'm downright jealous. Somehow I need to know a story how a stalker like you managed to get into a relationship with a cowgirl running around with a Duplet."

"It involved drinking and me chasing a man who stole my Kalashnikov." He replied.

"Chyort, remind me never to be on your bad side. Well, we better get going. Might be hard to get you through if there is any fighting going on." His hand reached for the bottle before he took a quick swig of its contents. "For the motherland and dying of old age."

After the Polis Ranger and the stalker finished up their preparations, they began jogging to the south and catching the sentries off-guard. The desert was vast in these lands and Artyom already missed the comfortable lifestyles of New Vegas, but he would have to complain later as he pulled out the mark of Caesar and hanged it around his neck. In the meantime, he also kept the Platinum Chip in his pockets.

The deserted landscape did little to comfort the two as every direction could be filled with hostile wildlife or an ambush spot for raiders. The latter reminded the stalker about his time when he was confronted by a Powder Ganger on his way out of Goodsprings. Yet, their traveling did warrant some undesirable attention as gunfire shot out from their right and whistled past Uhlman's helmet.

A small depression was available for them as Uhlman grabbed him by the collar and slipped down. "Artyom, put on your helmet!" He ordered before he prone to the ground and slowly climbed up the dirt to see their assailant. "Looks like we're not alone right now. I'd say someone had spotted us, but detective work doesn't appreciate the obvious."

When he finished strapping on his helmet, he joined the soldier in scanning the surrounding area. "Do you have a clear idea where they are?"

"Nyet. I just know they're firing at us in this general direction."

Much like before, the Dark Ones had intervened on his behalf. 'Find danger… destroy…' His vision had started to change, identifying dozens of red figures approaching them with a whole assortment of weapons - some melee while others with pistols and shotguns.

He reached for his American rifle and aimed it at the assailants. Once the vision was gone, he got a clear sight of the targets before him. Their dirtied faces was clear they didn't have the luxury of showering, but did it make it easier to shoot at. "I see them." Gunfire echoed out from his rifle, striking those who were caught out in the open. Some screamed while others swore out in his general direction. What did they expect to receive?"

Those that didn't fall had charged, but unlike the others they were armored in metal plates. Their weapons of choice didn't really face the stalker as he cut them down with American-made ammunition. A man with a lever-action rifle had opened up on him, but it was not enough to match the rate of fire of a modern assault rifle.

After the carnage was over, Uhlman let out a small whistle. "That's fast. I wish I had reflexes like yours."

He turned his head towards him. "Really, I thought it was really slow?"

"Not really. Either I'm slow or you're really good." He answered, but more figures approached the bodies of the fallen raiders. "Look, I see red. Are those Legion?"

"I think so. I'm a bit familiar with their armor so it does appear to be that way."

A womanly shrieked echoed across the way as two Legionnaires tied a woman's hands together and carried her on their backs. She yelled out for help, but Artyom could do nothing except pity her. He needed to get into Legion territory and the last thing he needed was to cause a mess because there was a wrong deed being done. It felt wrong in every fiber of his bone; however, the plan needed to be carried out.

"I think it's my time to go right now."

"If that's the case, my mission is done." Uhlman replied. "I'll stay here for a bit, but you go ahead."

"Are you sure you'll be okay all by yourself?"

He smiled. "Don't you worry about me, I'm a Ranger."

"Ladna, good luck on your way back."

"Likewise, kid. You need it more than I do."

The young man rose from the dirt and approached the Legion patrol dragging the screaming woman until one of the men stepped forward to silence her with his fist. "Our capture is finally quiet. Are there anymore worth bringing into the Legion?"

Another shrugged it off. "Their wounds appear to be too much for them to handle. It will fester and they will get sick and die. Whoever shot them had the intention to go for the kill."

"That reminds me, where is their attacker. He might be around here somewhere. Keep your heads about, there is still danger here."

When he came closer, one of the seven soldiers turned around brought his rusty rifle to bear. "You there, stay where you. Move any closer to Caesar's Legion and we will shoot you. Dare to take our capture and we will give you a pain worse than death."

Despite the threat of death, Artyom reached for the mark and presented it to them. Their eyes widened in shock and awe while those who drew their weapons and lowered them. "Your Caesar had demanded my attention. I request to be brought to him."

. . .

Patience was not a virtue that Legate Lanius was known for and it showed. His soldiers remained uneasy as he stood tall upon the hill overlooking the new frontlines. The flag of the bear arrogantly waved high alongside several other flags. It appears the profligates were responding to his troop movements and he wished he could order the attack upon the enemy, but orders from Caesar took priority.

A centurion approached him with his head lowered. "Great Legate, a dissolute has approached one of our patrols."

The masked warrior looked down on him. "What importance does this dissolute have to earn my attention? Nail him on the cross if you must to inspire terror in the enemy."

"He carries the mark of Caesar and he requests a meeting with him." That was enough to grab the legate's attention. "Shall he allow him passage into the camp?"

"Yes. It is the reason why we are even here." Lanius answered. "However, I want to see him personally. What kind of person would earn the attention of our lord?"

"Understood, I will bring him forward." The centurion acknowledged as Legionary soldiers were taking up positions in the hilly terrain and await for any potential NCR attacks. Time passed as he returned with primes escorting the stranger in the familiar, yet different, clothed armor. "Here he is, sire."

The stranger looked around with his curiosity focused solely on the individual who stepped down from the top of the hill to meet with him. "You must be the profligate that he has been waiting for. Out of the many maggots who live in the squalor of New Vegas, a desert ranger is the least I was expecting of. Who are you?"

He brought his head tall, but his accent was unlike any he had expected. "My name is Artyom Alekseyevich Chyornyj."

There were few times that Lanius would be surprised, but he couldn't help the smile underneath his mask. "Here I thought I would be meeting the usual rats in the land of the Mojave. Instead, I find one of the rumored Russians that have aligned themselves with the profligates. If your people can do well in battle against the Fiends, I pray that they will become worthy foes for my blade and slaves to Caesar."

Artyom scoffed at his words.

"Have I offend you, maggot?"

He shook his head. "My people survived twenty years in conditions you couldn't dream up in your own worst nightmare. The monsters we've fought in those tunnels would make your soldiers look like children. You will not find us as sheep."

"Good. There will be something more enjoyable in the future. The NCR hasn't left much satisfaction with their soldiers, save for their rangers." Then he looked to the soldiers escorting Artyom. "This conversation should now end and you should now go to Caesar. Take him to Cottonwood Cove, a raft should be waiting for him."

* * *

After being brought into the camp of the enemy brought no comfort to the stalker. Soldiers clad in makeshift armor - made up of football and other miscellaneous equipment - trained and beaten war drums in open ground. Yet, it was not the only sight to see. Women were seen doing back-breaking work of bringing bags of goods - more than anyone should be doing. Children were being beaten for being last in a race against their peers. What kind of society accepted this sort of treatment as normal?

A Legionary who was leading him to Caesar had stopped him in front of a tent. "As a precaution, you must hand over all your weapons and undesirables over to us."

He was surprised they even let him carry his weapons this far into the camp, but he'd rather not give them any ideas until then. He reached for his Shambler and handed the makeshift assault shotgun over to soldier. "Be careful with this one, if you accidentally drop this you might kill someone with it."

After he disarmed himself, save for one weapon kept hidden, he handed his backpack over before he was given a nod. "You may enter."

Without hesitation, Artyom opened the flaps of the tent just to be met by tall and lean soldiers. Unlike his previous encounter with the Legionaries, these men were armed with strange weapons that one could use to punch with. However, they were not keen on being watched. "Move dissolute, Caesar is waiting."

He walked past them and discovered a small patch of land whose only exposure was to the skies. An man was sitting on his throne made from bones and skins of animals slain. Yet, it appeared he was not paying attention to the person standing before him. His head was resting in his hand before his eyes glanced forward and noticed the Russian. Flanked by bodyguards and attack dogs, he appeared confident in starting the discussion. "So you must be the stranger who has piqued my interest. Vulpes Inculta gives you a passage to come into my camp and not long ago, you had removed House from his seat in New Vegas. I am impressed since there are few people who have the courage to take on an army of machines - save for my Legion. Tell me, what reason did you have to dispatch him without even a single order from me?"

The young man didn't even know what to say. After all, he was in the presence of the man who ordered the attacks on his home station. His words had to be chosen carefully as a comforting reassurance came from the Dark Ones. 'He is dangerous… we are worse… You will be protected… if harmed…'

"What? Do you have any words to say to me?" Caesar questioned.

His lips departed and he let out his thoughts. "House intended to kill me. I had no choice."

He laughed at his response. "That is quite a motivation indeed. A story about a foreigner who goes across the wasteland to find the man who shot him, scares him out of the Tops Casino, and kills the ruler of New Vegas. You are someone who could get something done when you put your mind to it and in this case, you weren't even trying." Then his smile disappeared. "That kind of willpower right there is why I took such a keen interest in you. My armies will be set to take Hoover Dam and the west shall fear me. Now? I need someone who could serve the Legion in the best way possible, undermining their efforts on the other side of the Colorado."

"What will you have me do?" Artyom asked with reluctance.

"I have a task that may work, but first I need to know whether you will do it for me?" His gaze fell upon the bodyguards beside him. "Praetorians, search him. I want to see if he has the Platinum Chip on his person."

Taken by surprise, the young man found himself patted down for the very thing he didn't want to lose. It was his most prized possession and now it was being taken from him. Yet, he was also terrified as they were going to find out about his hidden sidearm.

When the searching was over, two items were removed from the Russian - the Platinum Chip and Joshua Graham's pistol. A praetorian walked over to Caesar and presented it to him. His hand reached out to the strange chip and inspected the item. "My Legion sees technology as a terrible limit keeping humanity back from greatness. After all, it is what brought down civilization two hundred years ago." Then he handed it back. "Behind my tent, there is a place full of technology, but a key that needs to be opened. I have tried to destroy those doors with many means, but they remained shut. Now? This key shall open those doors."

Another praetorian walked over to him with Artyom's pistol in hand. "Caesar, he was apparently armed. This is what we found."

Caesar's eyes lit up at the weapon being presented to him. He immediately grabbed the pistol off his bodyguard's hand and inspected it. "I know where this weapon is from." His head snapped to the disarmed stalker. "Where did you get Joshua Graham's pistol?!"

* * *

Author's Note: That's all folks!

* * *

 **Aren serathy** : It's also perfect when it comes to dealing with those creatures under the surface.

 **Artyom-Dreizehn** : I also like the Elite Riot Gear from Lonesome Road as well. Though we finally get to know more about Angelique's side and how she came to be.

 **Dr. Killinger** : You're welcome. I'm glad that this story is doing better than some of the Metro/Fallout crossovers I've seen on this site.


	49. Chapter 49: Path to Fate

Two Legionary soldiers shoved Artyom into a small room filled that was heavily guarded by Praetorians. Caesar was not pleased when he learned that he carried Joshua Graham's pistol as a sidearm, but he thanked whatever god above that he was alive right now. Yet, it was not a total loss as a third Legionary stepped into the small building his bag out. "You have committed a great crime against Caesar, but he is merciful enough for you to carry out his will." Out from his bag, they searched through his belongings, only removing the large amounts of ammo for his sidearm. "Your punishment shall fit the crime and so Caesar has declared that you will only bring this weapon into battle. Nothing else shall be brought into the depths below."

The young man reached out for his magazines and stuffed as much as he could into his pockets as the warrior 'encouraged' him to proceed.

"Go! Caesar does not like laziness unless you wish to be on a cross."

After he finished strapping himself with .45 ACP rounds, Artyom looked to a small console near him and found a slot waiting for him. He reached into his pockets to pull out the Platinum Chip, just to learn that it's designed matched it place it was supposed to be. As he slipped the device into place, a green light appeared on a button, which was to allow access into the underground facility. His thumb activated it as the Legionaries looked around to see the floor reveal a set of stairs down below.

He walked down its steps with the chip in hand as he pulled out _A Light Shining in Darkness_ from his holster and loaded a magazine. The door that locked him out had slid opened while the floor access behind him had trapped him inside the facility. Now he was in Mr. House's most prized possessions and like all treasures, they had their monsters.

Upon entering the room, it was completely empty - save for a white monitor on his right. "My chances of survival have become quite slim at this point." He pondered to himself.

The monitor flickered wildly and grabbed Artyom's attention with a happy face creeping the stalker out. "Hello there." The personalized face greeted. "My name is Yes Man, it's good to meet you Artyom?"

He as surprised. "Wait, how do you know me?"

"Oh, Angelique brought me from Benny's room. Then she inserted my personality into Mr. House's software, allowing me to converse with you. She told me that someone would be here to activate the securitron upgrades." The computer answered.

"Good. Look, tell Angelique I'm in trouble. The Legion found out about me knowing Joshua Graham, so I expect that as soon as I activate the software, I am a dead man."

"No problem. I'll tell her as soon as possible. However, she did inform me about the situation in that bunker."

He raised his eyebrows. "What kind of situation?"

"Angelique cannot deactivate the security measures inside the bunker." That threw a wrench into his plans of getting rid of the Legion threat out of the Mojave. "However, there are three terminals across the hallway where you can deactivate all of them without firing a shot."

"Really? Can you show them to me?"

"Of course, do you have any materials you can write on? I can put up the passcodes?"

There was some hope for him. Instead of dealing with the threats inside of the facility, he could casually walk inside and not worry about the machines attacking him on site. Such was relieving news to him as he holstered his pistol and pulled out his journal and short pencils out. Passcodes appeared on the screen as he wrote them down perfectly and ensuring that they were correct for each terminal. When he was finished, he tightly held onto his journal with joy. "Thank you, Yes Man. I appreciate the assistance."

"I live to serve." The machine acknowledged.

Artyom proceeded into the hallway that led deeper into the facility, but he looked to his right to see slow-moving robots patrolling their designated routes. Yet, they haven't noticed him as he walked to the door across the hallway with silent footsteps as he pressed the door and unlocked access to a room with three terminals on the wall.

When he took control of one terminal, he looked at the keyboard to see the familiar green screen displaying an amalgamation of words and symbols. This terminal had access to the robots patrolling the facility and so he glanced at his notebook and looked for the answer. "Ladna, it's right here." As soon as he brought the selection over to the designated word, he pressed enter and was met with success. He looked for the option to deactivate the patrols of robots, but as soon as the enter key was pressed the mechanical whines of robots in the hallway had stopped patrolling. Then he repeated the process for heavily-armed robots that were too much for him to fight and the results ended in a similar outcome - relief. After he deactivated the turrets, the facility groaned once more with lights brighter than before. The extra power had allowed more electrical juice to flow through the still active location.

He stepped out from the terminal room and slowly explored the facility with his hand resting on his holstered pistol. His activities in deactivating security had allowed the rusty robots to stay dead and unmoving in their tracks. It was creepy in its own right, but he didn't complain as it was better to deal with silence than die to gunfire. To say this place was extensive was an understatement. Several rooms contained generators with coils shocking out with warning signs telling him it was dangerous to enter those rooms.

His exploration was sated when there was one path left into a hallway with directions referring to it as a control room. While he walked through the hallway, window shutters had been raised to show a robotic army in its slumber. It shared the same face as the others on the strip, but they flickered each time he walked by each unit. The idea that House was preparing for this moment kinda scared him as Artyom realized just how close he was to become a powerful ruler in New Vegas.

By the time he arrived in the control room, a red light warmed the room as he approached the consoles attached to the walls. He walked closer to see the buttons and find a small slit for the Platinum Chip. Artyom reached for his pocket and slipped the key into place - unlike the first console station - the reaction to the activation had achieved a level of surprise in such a short time.

A synthetic female voice had spoken. "Downloading Operating System Software to Securitrons."

Silence followed, but only for a moment.

"Scanning user for verification. Remain still."

Red lights appeared all over the Russian as his eyes looked around to see a red field scan through his body before a computer screen and a keyboard came out from the wall in front of him. Various numbers and letters flowed through the system before his face was revealed in one of the panels. Information such as height, weight, and positions under House seemed to be showing up.

"House: Terminated. No known record of a successor. Reinitializing priority of employees."

More information came up with Benny and Angelique's face appearing on the computer.

"Benny: Terminated. Angelique: Questionable Loyalty to NCR. Artyom: Possible? Assessing candidates."

Whatever knowledge this computer had on him had disregarded the other two people as he froze in place.

"Protocol Pandora initialized. Artyom, do accept Mr. House's inheritance?" The computer asked.

Although he was hesitant, his options to escape this place were few and the means were lacking. What would this lead up to? "Yes, I accept."

"Acknowledging. You are the legal owner of the Lucky 38 and New Vegas. Access to private datafiles initiated."

The information on his person had disappeared, but it had been replaced with several files with one being highlighted. Artyom reached for the keyboard as the red lights flickered away and pressed the enter key. A line flowed through several sound waves before he heard Mr. House's voice on the speaker. "If you are hearing this then I am dead or passed away or discovered an untimely fate. Whatever the reasons that may befall me, I am here to congratulate you on locating the Platinum Chip and bringing it to this facility. That is not an easy task, but I digress. The scanner has given you full access to whatever information I have on hand in the days of the apocalypse or life before the apocalypse, but this official succession is to ensure that humanity has a future and that is my dream. You now have the means and the wealth to deal with whatever matters that must be done and have the upgraded army of securitrons to enforce civilization back from the apocalypse. Make poor use of your inheritance - you may as well end up like me. Now I bid you farewell to the endeavors ahead."

When the recording was finished, he became curious about one of the more recent data logs. Once he pressed the enter key once more, Mr. House expressed his thoughts on the matter.

"Large seismic activity has been detected east of Primm. As I understand, there used to be a military installation before the war that spent time on artificial weather. To determine if it is related to the seismic activity requires active personnel sent to this so-called 'Divide' that the NCR uses for a logistical route to hold the Mojave region. However, the lack of NCR reinforcements from that route does suggest a major event had forced them out of the Divide. Did the locals push them out with some great weapons within the region? At this point, I am reaching conjecture, but sending Benny would be risky and I have invested too much time just to lose another employee with potential."

Just what was this Divide? It seemed to pique Artyom's interest and if House found interest in such a location then it must be important. Yet, he couldn't leave the bunker underneath Caesar's Legion. "What can I do? I managed to get an army of robots under my command, but what can I do from here?" Then he realized what he just said and an idea had begun to form a plan.

* * *

Artyom's disappearance did not go unnoticed by Cass as she stormed into what was now her new home. When the elevator doors opened, the caravaneer walked out to find Angelique putting on her long coat. "I was looking for you."

The ranger raised her eyebrows. "Then make it quick, I got to go south and help my people against the Legion."

"Where is Artyom?"

Angelique let out a small sigh. "Artyom took the risk to get the Platinum Chip through a Legion camp and activate the upgrade software for the securitrons."

"That's it. You're not worried about his well-being." She confronted him.

"What's this all about? Are you that worried about your boyfriend in danger?"

"Yes, but you didn't even consult with me."

"We're on a time limit, Cass," Angelique replied. "The Legion has an army on our doorstep and you and I both know that the Legion doesn't exactly give flowers and chocolates to women. Had I went there, they would have enslaved me and turned me into a brood mare at this point, but Artyom has a chance that we don't have. Besides, the Legion will need him to go where we he's supposed to be and Yes Man is there to help him out while I'm away."

She crossed her arms. "Alright, you've convinced me that he's alright, but what's with the high-end officers from the Republic doing in the Casino? I know it's not some simple conversation with our armed forces. Are they here to annex the city?"

Her head shook off the suggestion. "No. Ambassador Crocker wanted a decent meeting place where the NCR and the Polis Rangers can properly hold a discussion under closed doors. Since House is dead, this is the best place without some outsider getting involved."

"Polis? You mean Artyom's people."

"Kinda. Turns out the coalition is only as stable as long as the Legion lives. Once the Legion is driven out, that alliance is on a timer and everyone in New Vegas is going to be witnessing a full-blown war between the Russians."

Cass was surprised at what was being revealed. "I'll be damned. Perhaps Artyom wouldn't be caught in the middle. Then again, I've seen the republic take too many places against another's will."

"Likewise." Angelique looked at her Pip-Boy. "I got to go. Say hello to Artyom to my dad when he arrives with the president."

"Hold up, your father is a friend of the president?"

The ranger put on her helmet as its red lights were activated. "Not really. He's a senator back in Shady Sands, but coming to meet up with me when the usual morale booster gets into place." She walked past the caravaneer and left her on the presidential suite.

"I guess the company I keep is too busy to spend some good quality time." She said to herself before making her way towards one of the rooms.

After she unlocked the door, the caravaneer was shocked by the scene before her. The two girls from the Brotherhood of Steel were dressed up and preparing their beauty. Christine was busy switching between different colors of whigs while Veronica started to put makeup on her face. "Finally, both of us can relax without the elder or any of the paladins getting mad at us."

"Are you two going anywhere?"

The duo turned around to find the dirtied caravaneer standing in the room. "Christine and I are going on a date - a proper one. Couldn't get one without some sibling trying to convince me I'm better off kissing him instead."

"I figured you two were close, but I didn't think both of you were that close," Cass commented. "Shit, I mind as well call our little company a circus if we continue to bring more people like this."

A suggestion came from Christine as she settles for a dark brown color. "Why don't you put down that shotgun and go spend some time for yourself. How about the Ultra-Luxe?"

She scoffed at the suggestion. "In case you two haven't noticed, I don't have a dress to wear - much less a clean one."

Veronica put down her makeup and started to walk to one of the cabinets. "Oddly enough, there is an extra dress Artyom's been lugging around ever since we left the Sierra Madre. I thought it might be worth wearing, but I like my white one."

"Look girls, it's a nice idea, but I'm going to be waiting for Artyom when he gets back."

"Then you have more reason to wear one. First, you take a shower then Christine and I can make you pretty before he even knows it was our handy work."

Although the idea was ludicrous to the caravaneer, Cass glanced at the folded dress with a degree of curiosity. Her friends were well-dressed and all those memories of trying to look pretty for the boys just didn't occur to her… until now. "Okay then, show me what you got?"

* * *

Antony sipped his bitter drink that night after getting his dogs to finally rest. A slave had managed to feed them with only one slab of meat before they fought each other for something that should have been cut into pieces. Of course, he had to beat the woman, but not enough to kill her - she still had to be used by the other Legionaries. Now his gaze fell upon his dogs sleeping in their kennels as they waited, trained, and prepared for the day to battle for the Mojave. Yet, his drinking also served another purpose - to remind himself of the days when he was still part of the Hangdogs. Memories of better times flowed through his mind before he recalled the moment the Legion threw their dogs into the fires. The poor creatures and their howls still haunted him to this day to help them.

A fellow Legionary approached him. "Ave, true to Caesar." He said. "Antony, how are the dogs?"

When he finished his drink, the dog handler placed his bottle on the ground. "The dogs are fine, but the woman had to be punished. She should have known better, but that is what you'd expect from a recent capture."

"Did you hear about Caesar and that dissolute? Apparently, _he_ still lives."

He understood what he meant by that. "How do you know?"

"The weapon of the New Canaanites was on his person and now he has paid the price." The soldier answered. "Rumor has it, the Praetorians are waiting for him as soon as he leaves the bunker. It's quite something to see Caesar's wrath with your own eyes."

"Do you believe he would permit us to see his death?"

He shook his head. "I doubt it. Ever since Legate Lanius has brought most of our forces across the Colorado River, our commanders want to be very vigilant if the profligates try to attack across the Dam."

Antony slipped out a laugh. "Even with the Russians, I doubt they would want to cross the Dam on such open ground."

The quiet camp was torn asunder by gunfire and screams.

"What's that?"

"I don't know." The man replied. "It's coming from behind Caesar's tent."

The dog handler walked away from his dogs to see the commotion as Legionary soldiers grabbed their weapons. Something dangerous had happened as a sentry in a watchtower pointed in the direction of the attack. "We're under attack! Send wor-" He was cut off when the smoke trail of a warhead shrieked into the tower with wooden and metal debris exploded across the camp.

"By Mars, I'll get the dogs ready. Go help the others!" Antony shouted as he turned his back on the scene. He reached towards the makeshift kennels and started to unlock each cage as his dogs stood up and barked. "Go, help the Legion." Each time he opened their cages, they sprinted out into danger like gun being fired. His ears heard the fighting and the killing slowly make their way towards his position.

When the last dog charged out, he grabbed the worn-out rifle on his back as he stepped out of the kennel. A burst of gunfire was nearby as he heard one of his dog cry out in pain. The Legionary stood his ground when he found himself confronted by several wheeled machines with machine guns for hands and rocket pods for shoulders. Yet, the soulless metal monsters with the mask of mankind were not the only ones standing before him.

A dissolute was waiting for him with a weapon only meant for those who lived in New Canaanite. He don the armor of a Desert Ranger as he walked past the dead dog. However, his back was turned as he approached a fallen Legionary carrying a strange assortment of weapons. If he was the one who was behind this entire attack, then he would pay for it in blood.

Antony raised his rifle and lined up the figure's body before he squeezed the trigger. When the shot came out, the man was knocked back by the impact and had fallen to the ground. Despite catching him off-guard, it was not enough to kill him as he forced himself to stand up. Then the machines turned around and open fired on him. The last thing he ever saw was the flashing of their barrels.

* * *

Rose of Sharon Cassidy sat alone on a bench in a fine black dress with red trimmings. As she waited with a bottle of whiskey in hand, she was approached by several men in a light tan pinstriped suits and black ties. One of them whistled at her. "You seem quite pretty for someone sitting on a bench." Then one of the men took a seat beside her.

The caravaneer sipped her whiskey. "I'm waiting for somebody."

"I guess that somebody is going to miss out on a beautiful lady such as yourself. My name is Cachino and these are my men. We're with the Omertas."

"Is that supposed to impress me?" Cass wondered. "If anything, both of you look a little too old to be playing gangster."

He took one step forward. "Careful, with that overthrow of House and his robots, nobody is going to notice three Omertas taking in a bitch who doesn't know her place."

She scoffed at his threat. "I've been to the Sierra Madre and fought alongside Joshua Graham. You're the least people I'm afraid of."

"The Sierra Madre? That place is a legend. What a fucking joke?" Cachino laughed before he leaned forward to confront the caravaneer face to face. "Here's what is going to happen. We're going to bring you into Gomorrah and I'm going to fuck your cunt until you like it."

Her eyes glanced to her right, only to recognize Artyom's armor and an army of securitrons behind him. Unlike the ones seen in the strip, these wore the faces of soldiers. As soon as he noticed her situation, the Russian stormed towards the three men surrounding her. "He's here. Make way for my boyfriend."

The Omertas turned away from her as they found a man standing before him. "Who the fuck are you?"

His accent came out. "My name's Artyom - the man who killed House," Then he looked over his shoulder. "Then got an army of securitrons and killed Caesar in his own tent. Now then, why are there three grown men surrounding my girlfriend?"

Cass let off an evil smirk. "They said something about dragging me into Gomorrah and fucking me silly or something like that."

The blood on Cachino's face was drained as he raised his hands up. "Look pal, I didn't mean no trouble."

Then Artyom's arm rested on his makeshift shotgun. "If I were you, I'd start running before I have to embarrass your boss that I killed you with a shotgun made out of kitchen parts."

"Alright people, let's go."

"Three… two…"

The three Omertas ran off with one of the men swearing at him. "You Russians are fucking crazy!"

He took a seat beside her as his hand reached out for the bottle of whiskey. "I guess I came home on time."

Much as she wanted to laugh, Cass needed to tackle the most obvious statement he had ever stated. "You killed Caesar?"

"Yes." He answered. "I decided to get back at the Legion after what they did to my people at Exhibition. The irony is that they were sitting atop of a military bunker full of an army of securitrons. With their camp gone, those Legion soldiers south of New Vegas are actually stuck there unless they swim across the other side of the river or break out through the frontlines."

"You planned for this?"

"Nyet. I just realized that as soon as I scared the hell of the NCR troops on their side of the dam. Why are you all dressed up?"

Cass pointed out to the white Casino with the sign Ultra-Luxe displayed above its doors. "Veronica and Christine were going on a date and I thought it would be a good time to have some fine dining. My dad would have said I'm being a bit selfish, but a nice dress and a good dinner seem like a good idea. Do you want to join me?"

"Of course, just let me get changed out of this and have some painkillers. My body hurts like hell."

* * *

After infiltrating through the Legion lines, Angelique was in their rear. Whatever raiders that were once present in this region had been destroyed by the enemy, leaving a few bands to flee from the largest threat in the Mojave. With them out of the way, she had managed to map out their positions and patrol routes that seemed vital to the war effort. Thankfully, she had received news from Colonel Moore that a ranger and a few Russian stalkers were able to sabotage several of their supplies in the rear - which meant that their main army was at the mercy of logistics. Odd how weeks before that the NCR was on the back foot and had managed to turn the tide against Caesar's Legion.

In the night sky, a blue light was flying overhead - earning her attention when a massive object crashed into the desert south of her position. Just what the hell was that? She brought her plasma rifle to bear, aiming down its sights to see that the object was a satellite that had fallen from orbit. As the smoke cleared, the woman saw an eye twitching from place to place on the broken-down billboard in front of it. Whatever it was, perhaps it may be of some use to the republic.

She reached for her long-range radio and spoke. "All ranger stations, I've located a potential technological location south of Nipton. I'm proceeding to approach it and see what use it has for the republic. End report."

With that said, Angelique put away the radio and stumbled down the hills and brushed past the ghost town for the object in question. As she came closer to inspect it, she was amazed at its sophistication before her hand touched the warm plating of the crashed satellite.

When her fingertips met with the metal, she was gone in a blink of an eye.

* * *

Author's Note: I've been at odds with whether I should cover Old World Blues or not, but I believe it would be better not to get into too much detail about the place Angelique is at. However, it will play an important role in the future. Beyond that, it's in spoiler territory.

* * *

 **Aren serathy** : The reason why these posts seem so quick is that I forgot about posting them on this site when I had the chance. Most of my story posting is usually updated first on SpaceBattles and this site second. If you really want to keep up with the story, I recommend that you go there instead as I have a few extra stuff that you'd enjoy like NCR reports or little story bits between the Metro and Fallout universes.


	50. Chapter 50: The Battle of Novac

Legate Lanius had entered the war tent after his prayer to Mars, the god of war. This spiritual ritual had always helped him through the days when war was not committed against the enemy of Caesar. He often pondered why his master was against pitched battles against the flag of the bear. Didn't he once say that fortune favors the bold?

His officers stood at attention when his presence was known. All except one, whose demeanor was less than desirable and his tired eyes present. The lower-ranked Legionary lowered his head and knelt before him. "Why is there a whelp in my war tent?"

One of his subordinates stepped forward from a pole keeping the tent up and spoke up. "My legate, this is a messenger from Caesar's camp. He brings news."

"Well then, tell me what I need to know." The legate demanded of him.

The messenger rose from kneeling and confronted him with the truth. "Caesar is dead."

"What happened?!" His voice was far tenser than before. "You should be grateful I haven't gutted you for this treasonous thoughts."

"It's not treason, it's the truth. An army of heretical machines came out from under the ground and attacked our camp. The dissolute who the Legion is currently here for had summoned them and brought chaos on the fort. We tried to fight them off, but they were too many." The young man explained. "My centurion commanded me to send word to you about the camp's destruction as the survivors held off the damned wired to tell you that you are now the leader of the Legion. Caesar's legacy now rests with you."

For Lanius, he realized that their way back across the Colorado River was now blocked. Perhaps it was a blessing that most of the army was with him, but he was now on a time table. The needs of his army couldn't wait out a long battle against the profligates and the desire for swift retribution needed to be sated. His masked face glanced to the officers throughout the war tent. "If this is true, then we must act. Our enemy will take advantage about the Legion's loss, but in order to honor Caesar's memory, we must take New Vegas. We are because of that city and it has become our goal. We shall take it for him, this is the dream that he would have wanted." He looked to the messenger. "Announce my control of leadership to everyone in the camp."

The prime lowered his head in respect. "As you wish." With that said, he walked out of the tent and had begun to spread the word.

The legate turned his full attention towards his officers. "Is there anyone in this tent who disagrees with my new position?"

One of his men stepped forward. "You now lead the future against the profligates and we shall obey your commands. However, Vulpes may dislike the decision that we confer to you over him."

"Yes, he would definitely disagree with me. I will deal with his fate once our enemy is destroyed and flees to the west." He acknowledged. "Centurions, deploy the explorers and probe for any weaknesses in their lines. The NCR and the Russians have hastily formed a defensive line, but haven't had the time to consolidate on them. When they return with new information, we shall assemble the Legion and finish our campaign once and for all."

* * *

Timur sat quietly in his chair as his sniper rifle lay in his lap, overlooking the open field atop of a gas station. Not that he complained, it was better than worrying about his air filter, freezing to death, or a flying mutant coming around to take a man off the ground. What also helped in the process was the value of night vision goggles in the Mojave than in the Dead City. Apparently, such equipment was a rare find around these parts which meant that they had a distinct advantage in seeing the enemy before they came close to surprising the frontline infantry. This was perfect for nights like these.

He heard a pair of footsteps, only to look over his shoulder to find Ten-of-Spades accompany him. "Evening, how i-is sentry work d-doing for you?"

The Russian waved at him before scanning the open ground for the enemy. "It's fine. Though I do love to be smug over the guys below when I pick off some scouts without them knowing. The only time they do know I'm engaging the enemy is when they hear someone screaming. How about you?"

"I c-can't sleep. There's s-something keeping my g-gut awake."

"Looks like I'm not the only one. There is something off about this night and I don't know why." He stated.

"Say I-I hear that Betsy l-likes you. Did you know that?"

Now this was news. "Wait, who said that?"

"E-Everyone. The l-lieutenant is trying not to embarrass her since s-she likes girls, but B-Betsy made you an exception."

If it wasn't for the nosalis skin covering his face, he would be blushing before the younger sniper. "Chyort, I don't know how I feel about this. Like I'm glad she likes me, but I didn't know she swung that way."

He knelt beside him with the confused look on his face. "You d-didn't know? Betsy a-always tells guys to f-fuck off."

"She didn't tell me."

"That's news. You're not a g-girl and a blonde."

"If there was ever an awkward moment to be told that a lesbian really likes you, this would be it." His head turned when several cracks echoed out in the distance, but the sound originated on the right flank of the frontlines. "Did you hear that?"

"Yeah, I t-think so."

Timur looked to the right side of the frontlines to see an explosion flash before his very eyes before a volume of gunfire erupted in a vicious exchange. He reached for the radio on his shoulders and turned it on. "The right flank has been penetrated, reinforce that area."

A man was quick to acknowledge his request. "Understood, sending platoons to assist."

Yet, his night vision goggles noticed movement throughout the entire southern approach. "Forget what I said, alert everyone in Novac!" He screamed to the top of his lungs. "This is a full-scale attack!"

Ten of Spades started loading his rifle as he stole a glance from him. "What about the r-right flank? B-Betsy and my squad are there!"

"Join them if you're worried about your comrades, I'll stand my ground here." He ordered before laying himself down on the rooftop of the gas station.

Waves of infantry moved across the land as flares flew above the battlefield. The civilians on the frontline were quick to depart as NCR and Russian had begun to take their defensive positions alongside the sandbags. It was time to join them in this battle as he aimed down his scope and pulled the trigger on the numerous enemy. There was work to be done.

* * *

When Major Morozov heard the gunfire from the frontlines, he was quick to join the fighting as he grabbed his carbine and brought an aura of inspiration into the infantrymen alongside the frontlines. To see a major personally join the fighting was a sight to behold. Whether it be NCR or Russian, officers such as him should have been in the rear. As he raised his weapon, Pavel looked over the defenses to see an endless horde of the Legion charge towards his position. Pulling the trigger, he unleashed his firepower downrange as he looked over his shoulder to see more NCR troopers join him. "Use your grenades! Lob as many of them as you can!"

His cry was answered when pre-war grenades and makeshift pipebombs were thrown over the defenses and at the Legion. The first wave was met with explosions of shrapnel and shockwaves throughout the entire front, some of the enemies were lucky their bodies remained intact. Yet, it was not enough to stop the mass of red uniforms from approaching their positions. Some of the Legion soldiers stopped to return fire with rifles and weapons of the automatic nature, but there were those who brought along axes, sledgehammers, and bladed weapons. This strange amalgamation of equipment would be confusing to the eye of a modern soldier, but it also showed the will of the Legion to fight with what they had.

Pavel noticed that his weapon had stopped firing, but upon closer inspection, he saw an orange color emanating from his barrel. His weapon was overheating and with the enemy getting closer, he finally became afraid of what was to come. The automatic carbine hung from his shoulders as he reached for his semi-automatic pistol and desperately did what he could to keep the Legion back. Despite their losses, the enemy pressed forward and had finally reached the lines. The enemy was in their element.

A Legionary jumped across the sandbags and landed before the major with a chainsaw knife in hand. "What the fuck?!" He cried out as he stumbled back and held the trigger on his Lolife at his assailant.

The masked soldier kept the stumbled back and fell to his doom before another took his place with a shotgun in hand. Before he even had a chance to fire, the hostile's weapon jammed before him. Without hesitation, Pavel lunged forth and pushed him back against the sandbag wall as he reached for his knife. However, the Legionary's strength was working against him as the communist officer found his back pressed against the pavement. Then his trench knife's knuckles smashed against the opponent's head before jabbing the blade into his dazed jugular.

He kicked the body off of him while ripping the pump-action shotgun out of his hand. Prying the weapon off the dead man had made him a target as he looked to his left to see several Legionaries rush towards him with machetes in hand. Then gunfire from the rear had taken them up by surprise before they stumbled to the ground and succumbed to the kill shots.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw a blonde trooper rush to his aid while her squad covered her. "Major Morozov, are you alright?!"

"Mags?" He was surprised to see the leader of a poorly-trained squad of misfits come to his aid. "I'm fine, but help me out with this shit."

A gunshot rang out as the girl started screaming. "Ah! My leg!"

He looked back to see a Legionary rifleman pulling back the bolt for the next shot. Pavel brought his shotgun to bear and blasted him back into another soldier. Then another jumped forward with his machete in hand, but the Red stopped firing his weapon and used it as a club. When the blade clashed against the shotgun's barrel, he reached for his pistol and fired several shots into his torso without any mercy. Then the buttstock found its use as the man's face was smashed against the broken gun. "Medic!" He ordered as he rushed to the NCR trooper's side and pulled out his medkit needles for her pain.

After he injected the morphine into her system, he was quick to pull her away from combat while bullets flew past their heads. The girl cried out in pain as he looked around to see the entire frontline slowly collapse. There was almost no end in sight as the soldiers of Caesar's Legion overwhelmed them through superior numbers. As the major picked the NCR girl up into his arms, he carried her away from the fighting.

Trucks of reinforcements full of heavily armored Nazis as one of them startled his gatling gun to life. "Fucking mutants are breaking through, put these animals down!" The user ordered as they unleashed their wrath on the enemy, but even they were not enough. Spears from the enemy infantry found their marks into the ranks of the heavy troopers.

Yet, Pavel looked back to see the girl's squadmates escort him away while Legionary soldiers in ornate armor had stepped forward with large makeshift hammers or spears with fire. Despite the volume of fire pressed against them, they charged the heavy infantry and crashed into their lines with glee. Their battle cries had matched their battle prowess killing anyone who stood in their way. Some brave Russians had fixed bayonets and committed themselves to a counterattack, but they were no match for those trained with a blade.

The radio on Pavel's shoulder was enough to tell him that everything was not going well for them. "Fall back! I say again, fall back! Novac is lost!"

* * *

Author's Note: Oh boy, I derailed another plot once again.

* * *

 **Annoying POW Marine** : I've seen your reviews and it's a welcoming sight since reviews kinda stopped coming. Thanks to your bit on the Metro Coalition, it helped me with this chapter.


	51. Chapter 51: A Bitter Morning

The master bedroom's low light was a pleasant sight for Artyom as he lay comfortably beside Cass. Their dinner at the Ultra-Lux became an interesting evening with the duo fighting cannibals trying to get back into their tribal habit, rescuing a man's son from becoming a meal, and earning the loyalty of the Ultra-Lux leader for not revealing this information to the rest of the strip in the process. He barely had any ambitions to rule New Vegas and somehow he was gaining control by complete accident. If fate had a sense of humor for him, this would be the summarization.

The Rose of Sharon Cassidy had started moving as she looked over her shoulder to find him holding onto her. "You have managed to hold your drink. I'm proud."

The young man couldn't help, but let out a chuckle. "Only for you."

"How sweet." She replied as she pulled his arm over her. "Artyom, my life as a caravaneer is always moving - going from one place to another for profit. With the Van Graffs out of the way, I can properly make money and begin again."

"Are you going somewhere with this?" He wondered.

"Once the things in the Mojave is over, I'm going to be leaving. It's just that… you've given me the reason to for me to stay."

Artyom kissed her by the cheek. "Even if you do go, I'll be here to welcome you back."

"I'm kinda in the mood for some tea, could you make me some?"

"Of course, my Whiskey Rose."

Outside of their room, the duo heard the elevator doors open as footsteps approached their door. "Someone is here. I wonder who it could be."

"Veronica and Christine must be back or your pa wants to have a word with you," Cass suggested. "Let's get changed, we can't look embarrassing to friends and family."

The lovers were quick to get out of bed and change into casual attire. As she changed into a yellow dress, Artyom found the selection of clothing far more appealing than the sweatshirts and jackets of the Metro. When they finally finished, three knocks came onto their door. "Who is it?" He asked.

"It's Christine." The woman answered.

He opened the door and let her in. "You're lucky that Cass and I finished changing. I don't know what you would find."

The Brotherhood assassin expression appeared to be full of horror. "Now is not the time for jokes, the Legion had just launched a full-scale offensive on the town of Novac and the coalition is retreating from the settlement."

"Wait, what?!" Cass was flabbergasted. "What the hell happened?!"

"They got the news of what happened at the Fort and they are not pleased," She replied. "Rumor has it that Legate Lanius has assumed command of the Legion and they appear to be approaching the city outskirts. Veronica is on her way to convince the Mojave Brotherhood to join the defense, but it looks like we have to dig in."

Artyom considered his options and thought about the army of securitrons he had access to. "What if I got my securitrons to fight the Legion itself, could it work?"

"If the Legion was on the other side of the Hoover Dam, we could have funneled them into a meat grinder, but that's no longer a luxury. I'm not belittling their firepower; however, it's not enough to stop the Legion."

"Chyort, I'm not sure what to do. I have no expertise in something like strategy. Maybe I should go to the NCR embassy or find Colonel Miller? They might have something that could help us."

Christine was quick to reply. "I'm not sure the NCR embassy is a good idea."

"Why not?" Cass asked as she took her seat on the bed. "What's going on with them?"

"They're making preparations to leave the Strip via train and through Camp McCarran. So asking them is out of the question."

The young man reached out for a chair behind a desk on the far side of the room to think. "Looks like the Colonel it is. Honestly, if we can't hold the Legion with the combined might of the coalition I don't know what to do. I'm already getting comfortable in my new home as it is, but I'm not going to let them have it."

He noticed a flash of brilliance in Cass's eyes. "Artyom, I'll go talk with Colonel Miller, but why don't you talk with the Chairmen and the Omertas? Earn their loyalty and maybe they'll pitch in to help us out. Just like what the White Gloves did for us last night." She suggested.

His eyes trailed off to Christine. "What are you going to do?"

"There are a group of people northeast of New Vegas." She answered. "They are called the Boomers, people who are artillery specialists. However, they won't let any outsider inside."

"What if you somehow try?"

"Me? Are you crazy? Any outsider who tries to enter their homeland will eat high explosive ordnance if they tried. Thankfully, I'm an assassin and there are a few perks in my line of work that could help avoid being erased from existence."

"Are you that sure about yourself?"

"This is coming from a Russian who had to obey a psychopathic old man who sent you to fight and die for his treasure in the middle of a city full of dead people. Somehow you're worried about me dealing with explosive experts?"

"The ghost people didn't run around with artillery guns." He countered.

"He has a point," Cass commented. "Don't we some special tech where you can turn invisible or something?"

"Stealthboys?" Christine wondered. "There might be something around here somewhere, but I don't have the time to look around."

Then Artyom remembered a concept from an old friend when he first stepped out of Riga. Stalkers had this secret language that dated back before the pre-war times. "Perhaps you don't have to cross open ground and get yourself killed."

"What do mean?"

"Back in Moscow, stalkers don't always have radios so they used their flashlights to communicate with each other. Maybe they could talk to you if you had a flashlight like mine?"

The assassin snapped her fingers. "Yes, Morse code. People say the Boomers were former Vault Dwellers so they might understand it."

"Looks like we all have a plan." He stated. "Let's get to it."

* * *

Pavel was worried about the girl whom he trained to shoot better and hoped she wouldn't bite the bullet. Mags seemed like a nice person and her squadmates seemed to appreciate the attention they were received by a high-ranking officer. The guy with the glasses was a high-horse brat and the dark-skinned man with a mohawk was a complete asshole. How she put up with them was a question for another time, but the third member was a nice farm boy who had some decency to calm him down with a bottle of beer. Despite the two annoyances, Pavel could see a concern for their squad member no matter how much they hid it.

Out from her tent, a doctor walked out from the flaps with a clipboard in hand. "The trooper is okay. We're giving her med-x for the pain, but she'll be back on her feet if the Legion doesn't kill us first."

Being reminded of the defeat left a bitter taste in the mayor's mouth. "What's your name doctor?"

"Dr. Arcade Gannon, I'm with the Followers. You show a deep amount of concern for someone not in the NCR military."

"See the men behind me, I taught her squad how to properly shoot when the NCR didn't have the time to train them." He answered. "Seem to have worked out in my favor when she rescued me. What are your people going to do? Pack up and leave?"

The doctor shook his head. "The Followers of the Apocalypse are going to stay and try to help whoever needs us. The Legion is an antithesis to civilization so we're going to be there to fight them through our knowledge."

"An admirable duty I must say, but I shouldn't keep you from your other patients. Dasvidaniya."

The communist officer approached the tent and found the blonde lying down on a cot. She turned her head and looked at him. "Major Morozov, thanks for getting me to the Old Mormon Fort. I thought I wasn't going to make it."

He took a seat on her cot and pulled out a small bottle from his jacket and handed it to her. "Here, I think you deserve this after dealing with that shit."

"A bottle of vodka?" She wondered with bewilderment. "Where the hell did you get this?"

Pavel let out a chuckle. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"I have all of the time in the world. C'mon, impress a girl with a story."

"The Lucky 38." Came his answer.

Her widened at the bottle's origins. "Bullshit. The guy who killed House wouldn't let you get away with this."

"Artyom? The kid is more of the tea type of person. He didn't really mind me taking it."

"What happened when I was out for a while? Did we win?" She asked. "No nobody is giving me an answer."

The communist shook his head. "The Legion won that battle. We had to retreat to New Vegas and hold our ground here - only the Brotherhood and the rest of us. Your commanders are retreating from the Mojave."

The trooper's face was filled with shock. "What? After all that time the republic spent in the Mojave, we're tucking tail and running. Damn Oliver and his 'Wait and See' strategy. If he wasn't in charge, this wouldn't have happened."

"I'm sorry to bring you the bad news."

Mags took a quick glance at the bottle in her hands. "I can see why you gave me a bit of alcohol. Something to wash away the bitterness. What your people going to do? None of you guys will stay here, will you?"

"My superiors don't see much of a choice," Pavel replied. "If we retreat back to the Metro, we'll have to deal with incursions from the Legion, but our supply situations in the tunnels will get low and lower as mutants take use of the chaos to kill the rest of us. We're going to stay and fight."

"Why don't you come with the Misfits and leave the Mojave? I can get you a job as a rancher. Hell, I could convince you to get in my squad."

A weak smile was all he could offer. "I appreciate the gesture, but in all of my time in the Metro has taught me - there is so much one can do if you run. What would my fellow communists think if I abandoned my people for the sake of one more day. That is… an alternative that I can't live with."

Her face had now changed to a sad smile. "Got to give where credit is due. You have a lot of guts to stand your ground and fight the Legion."

"Our people survived twenty years of the bombs. We are not going to let a bunch of barbarians end our streak of living."

"I can lift a toast to that… after my meds have worn off."

* * *

When Artyom walked into the Tops Casino, he recalled it's lively it was with people enjoying their time with the games and entertainment. Now that life was fading. He could see their faces express their somber outlook on the future. The Legion was coming and it was only a matter of time before they stormed the city and killed its defenders.

His arrival did not go unnoticed as several Chairmen walked into the lobby with compact machine guns underneath their arms. One of the men stepped forward with his arms crossed. "Look what the cat dragged in. Do you think we're going to be welcoming you after you drove Benny out of New Vegas?"

The young man glanced towards the man who addressed him. "Are you the one in charge here?"

"What does it mean to you? Are you going to drag your boys to attack us as well?" They were certainly bitter about kicking Benny out of the city.

He shook his head. "No, I don't have a problem with any of your people. The only reason I drove Benny out is that he shot me as a witness to kill a courier and he stole my Kalashnikov."

The Chairmen glanced at each other with confusion as their new leader stepped forward. "So that's where Benny got that rifle from. Now, what are you here for? Going to get rid of us just like you did with House?"

"I am actually here to make a deal with you. The Legion is coming here as we speak and we need every hand if we're going to survive this onslaught. If they break through, they're going to storm the streets and ransack everything your people built up," Artyom replied. "If you do help us, perhaps there is something I may do on your behalf when you might need it."

The leader of the Chairmen stepped forward. "You got a lot of balls coming here, knowing we will shoot you down on sight. You know that?"

He nodded his head from side to side. "After going through Caesar's camp, I can breathe easy knowing your guys are far more reasonable in comparison. Now, how about we help New Vegas so your people can still make a profit in the future?"

"What do you got planned for us?"

"I will tell you as soon as I get things in order. As of right now, we're still getting people from the outskirts."

"Alright then. My name is Swank, good to meet you."

Heads turned when the owners of the casino and the stalker heard gunfire followed by screams beyond the doors. Artyom reached for his holster and placed a grip on his sidearm as he exchanged a glance at Swank. He brushed past the Tops' doors to find a firefight in the open. Bodies of civilians and combatants were littered in the street as the Omertas were walking through the gates. The young man reached for his assault rifle and joined the Securitrons in containing the threat. He raised his weapon and flicked the safety off before he fired his dirty-rounds down the street. Yet, he was not alone. Members of the Chairmen and the White Glove Society had stepped out of their workplaces, armed with pistols and submachine guns, there was little the Omertas could do when they were exposed to this much firepower by so many people.

Artyom and the others were quick to follow their assailants back to their headquarters. Tables were brought out from Gomorrah and were overturned as cover, but the defense was shattered when a Securitron had fired a grenade at their direction. "What is going on?!" The Russian shouted from the top of his lungs.

Something grabbed his pants when he looked down to find a bystander bleeding on the ground. "The Omertas attacked everyone for no reason. Why don't you check it out? I need a doctor." Perhaps this stranger was right. Whatever these people did had confused him. Why would they suddenly attack for no reason?

He left the chaos of the attack behind him as he entered the casino doors. The entrance area was empty while squads of Omertas flooded into the area. "Shit, one of them got through!" The stalker took refuge at a nearby wall as bullets vibrated from the other side. "Push through, he can't get out!"

The young man looked into his backpack to find anything that could change his situation. As he dug deeper, his hands felt the familiar shape of some dynamite. There were five sticks - each with a similar length of fuses, but it was enough for him to fight back. Pulling out his bullet lighter, he lit a fuse and threw them into the room full of Omertas. There was an immediate surprise from his enemies before explosions followed through. The explosive force and the debris reverberated throughout the building as he zipped his backpack and proceeded to find their reasons for this random attack.

NCR bills, casino chips, and cards were in the air and out of place. With his assault rifle raised, Artyom waited for any survivors to rise up and attack him. One man struggled to get off the ground with a large submachine gun in hand and noticed him. Before the Omerta had the chance to bring his weapon to bear, the Russian put two rounds in his suit before he stumbled back and landed hard on the floor.

Reinforcements came in the form of the whining machinery of the Securitrons. Each unit stormed into the casino in force while Artyom explored the building. Prostitutes and civilians hid from the fighting and especially from him. He finished exploring the ground floor when he arrived at what appeared to be a theater for customers. The people here were the surviving Omertas who didn't join their fellows when their fortress was breached. He recognized a familiar face among their number as he approached him with the support of the Securitrons backing him up. "I'm going to begin by asking a question. Why did your people attack the Strip?"

Omertas exchanged glances before they tightened their grip on their weapons. "We ain't telling you shit!" One of the men replied.

The familiar man spoke up. "You're the Russian who killed Caesar."

"Yes, indeed" Artyom replied. "I've seen you before, mind telling me who you are."

"I'm Cachino… the one who tried to mess with your doll."

So that is where he had seen him before. "I'm a merciful man, Cachino, killing you and the rest of the Omertas would be a waste of time when I need people to defend New Vegas from the Legion. Now would you answer my question?"

Cachino's expression seemed to be in conflict with himself. On one hand, there was a chance that he was willing to talk, but there appeared to be a level of hesitation as well. Then one of the men voiced his opinion. "If you turn on the family, I won't forgive you for your crime. We will kill you."

"Nero, this is the guy who killed Caesar and House. Our family dies if he doesn't get his way." The man explained. "Boss, he has us at gunpoint."

The man who appeared to be his boss was displaying his irritation. "Look dumbass, I don't care who this shit head thinks he is, but we're going to give the Legion New Vegas on a platter." Then he glanced towards the other men. "Get the bombs out right now!" After his order had been given, the Omertas pulled out gas masks from their clothes and immediately slipped them over their faces.

Before Artyom could have a chance to respond, he heard concussive explosions erupt throughout the building and the screams of those who didn't have a chance. Whatever machinations this Nero hatched, it was too late to stop. Securitrons fired away, leaving little time for the Omertas to return fire. Where the stalker was concerned was the boss and his men fleeing the room. They were working with the Legion and he intended to make them pay. As Nero and Cachino fled to the other side of the room, the weapon shouted out and made its mark on its victims.

* * *

Author's Note: I'm finally half-way through this fic. Just kidding. Though, I am nearing the end of this fic, but the next chapter will focus on the Courier in Old World Blues.

* * *

 **Aren serathy** : Caesar's Legion makes up for this by making women into broodmares for the state and declares this ethical. There is also the factor of him indoctrinating most of the male populace to join the Legion forces while having the political acumen to incorporate tribes into their ranks and cannibalizing their societies as a whole.


	52. Chapter 52: A Moment Away

In a land far away, there was a place where projects of a long-dead nation still thrived. It was a terrible place as few ever entered the perimeter of the Big Empty, fewer ever left. To the courier, it was one of many terrible places she had endured, but this land of scientific nightmares could never compare to her time in Hopeville. Nothing could compare, but the Big Empty was quite close to it.

Angelique traveled through the dangerous land, but she was in all sorts of pain. Her body survived gunshots, jagged blades, and sharp claws, but it could never erase the pain of the scars that came across her body. The surgical removal of her brain, heart, and spine had demoralized her ever since she waked up from her coma. If she tried to leave the perimeter, death would be certain and trying to get into Doctor Mobius' hideout was quite dangerous as it was. His roboscorpions were quite a hassle whenever she had completed the goal of getting the equipment to deal with him.

The company was even worse. There were five floating brains that talked to her through television screens and each of them had their own eccentricities. Hell, one didn't even speak compete English, but communicated with some kind of soundwave frequency. However, he was the least weird of the five and was quite helpful in some regards. The rest of his compatriots, on the other hand, gave her more incentive to do what she can to leave this hellhole.

While she walked through the valleys of dead projects, she considered the possibility of bringing the NCR's attention towards this particular location. Maybe try to get the help of her Russian friends if they were willing to go so far as to help with the republic's relations with others, especially these pre-war survivors.

She walked around the corner of a valley floor to find a roboscorpion turn its attention towards her. "I'm getting tired of this shit." At this point, she had every right be using such vulgar language. Her hand reached into her pockets and injected a dose of Med-X into her system. Better to feel less pain when dealing with these damn things. Bringing her plasma rifle to bear, streams of superheated projectiles crashed into the robot's case, melting away its systems by sheer heat alone. Before, she would have no qualms about walking past damaged robots, but Doctor Mobius' had installed a program that she hated to deal with. The fallen roboscorpion exploded with electronic debris flying across the area.

After killing the unit, Angelique noted a doorway on her left. Her Pip-Boy's map had full access to the maps across the Big Empty and this appeared to be the entrance into the lair of Doctor Mobius. The NCR ranger approached the door and found its systems opening for her upon arrival. Her finger reached for the trigger as she became uncomfortable about the lack of security around these parts. During her stay at this accursed place, she had stumbled upon the belongings of Christine and her recordings. Since she listened to her experiences, this place demanded caution as Angelique entered the facility.

When she was past the entrance and within the confines of the facility, Angelique found herself confronted by an enormous roboscorpion staring straight back at her. There was no doubt that she was going to die to this thing. After all, she only came with enough to take on a small platoon, not an entire walking weapon. If this is what Doctor Mobius had in store for the rest of the wasteland, she had to stop him.

The menacing of voice Doctor Mobius had come to life. "So I see that the Think Tank sent their emissary to deal with me. Good, this is a conversation I've been waiting to have for a long time. Alright, turn off the systems."

The monster that she was facing had stayed where it was, reducing its display of power before the loud echo of lights were shut on. Upon her right, she saw a large set of stairs leading up to a small platform high above. "You're not going to shoot me?"

"Shoot you? No, I have other plans in mind and I hope you're willing to cooperate." His voice was calm, far calmer than her previous experiences with the brain of the scientist. Just what was he up to?

"Great, I'm going to have to talk to one more mad scientist."

"I may have a sight problem, but I am not mad like those lunatics at the Think Tank. Come now, I haven't had a guest in my home for a very long time."

Angelique hurried with haste as she looked at the surrounding testing ground to see various turrets and controls throughout the place. It would have been an interesting fight against Doctor Mobius if things did become sour. After arriving on the platform and opening the mysterious door where he might be, she was met with a layout similar to the Think Tank's design. Unlike the clean an untainted walls of computers, there was a level of disrepair with no lights whatsoever save for the computer screens. Off in the distance, she saw the floating mechanical body of the menace who dared to confront her.

Doctor Mobius was accompanied by a pack of roboscorpions as he eagerly approached her. His right tv screen was smashed while his other eye scanned her body. "Somehow, I can see you at one point, but don't see you at another point. If only I knew what had occurred with my FOV cone. Could you move to the right or the left? I'm having a hard time getting a good look at you."

"Okay?" This was perhaps one of the strangest meetings she ever had in her journey. She scooted from side-to-side, hoping the small adjustments would be helpful for the insane doctor… well… one of the more insane ones to be precise. "Am I doing that right?"

"Ah, yes. Finally, I get a good look at you. Tell me, is there anything wrong with me that I can't see so well."

"Well, your right eye is all smashed up. I'd try to help you, but doesn't look like it can be repaired."

"A pity. I've been keen on regaining my full vision ever since the previous visitor had arrived at Big Mountain."

Was he referring to Christine and that other man? "For someone named Doctor Mobius, you're not exactly the type of person I was expecting."

"Just what where you expecting?" He asked. "Do you want a mentat?"

"Um? Sure." Her reluctant reply was met when one of the roboscorpions ejected a pack of mentats in her direction. She caught it and slipped it into her pockets. He might have done something with them if she tried to swallow one. "I was actually expecting a menacing mad scientist trying to raise an army to deal with the Think Tank and expand elsewhere. Not a scientist with his own little quirks."

"I suppose… I got too carried away with the psycho when I broadcasted to the Think Tank, but I do believe the chems have served their purpose." That was an answer worth noting. Was it more than simply a scare tactic? "It had to be something about ethics or whatever that went on."

"Ethics? You have an army of projects running amok throughout the Big Empty-" She was interrupted by a far more stone cold tone of Doctor Mobius.

"Big Mountain." He corrected. "This place is called Big Mountain. Just because one of those scientists decided to blow up the mountain with their artillery piece, doesn't mean the name changes. It will and always be Big Mountain to me." Now that was the Doctor Mobius she was waiting to see. "Now I remember about that thing about ethics. Those scientists at the Think Tank are my friends, but their minds… deteriorated. Best to limit their insanity here, where my broadcasts would have made them consider leaving Big Mountain."

Angelique found the information hard to believe. "Hold up! You're telling me that you're the good guy. The scientist with the name of Doctor Mobius is trying to spare the world of the bad side of scientific research."

"Yes."

"So why did you take away my brain? I came all this way to get my brain back and you could have told me along the way."

The scientist's eyes hardened. "It was a precaution. The Think Tank needed to believe I was so much of a threat to their research that they wouldn't leave Big Mountain. However, they interacted with people outside of this location and it made them establish a hypothesis about their preconceptions of a world. You were the third person they discovered and now they're trying to break out."

"How? They wouldn't get a mile in those floating machines without taking gunfire from some random bandit."

"They understood that," Mobius answered. "Then you came into their lives and gave them a solution to their problem. Extract whatever information that was in your head and steal your body."

Angelique's eyes widened with surprise. "That's their plan? Now that makes everything worse."

"Indeed. They cope with their mental state by experimenting which could be good or bad, but the point is that they would cause chaos wherever they went. No one beyond Big Mountain would be spared. So that is why I needed to hold a conversation with you, because you're helping them get what the need to get out under the guise of stopping."

"Shit."

To her surprise, there appeared to be another waiting to speak, but it mattered on who was speaking. "Doctor Mobius, do you want to have another meaningful conversation with me then that neanderthal in front of you."

The scientist rotated away from the courier and addressed a small container on the other side of the room. "I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss her. She has an important role to play just as much as you do."

"Please." The emanating voice replied. "I am far more sophisticated than whatever she's capable of."

"Now, now. There is a reason why humans have a brain, a heart, and a spine. Neither of you can deal with the Think Tank alone."

Curious, Angelique lowered her weapon and took a closer look, only to find a brain floating inside. "Doctor, is that my brain?"

"Yes. That is your brain. He's quite a peculiar one. Given that I rarely get any visitors, the technology that allowed my continued existence was applied to your brain in the interim until I could hold a conversation with you."

"So what exactly are we going to do?"

"Well, we could pretend that I injected my brain into your body and pretend that I have infiltrated the Think Tank with the other scientists at my mercy. You can act all menacing and I don't have to worry about my friends breaking to turn the world into their playground."

"Hello? I'm right here. Just because I can't move doesn't mean my soundwave software can't hear you." The brain commented.

Then the Ranger walked up to where her brain was contained in. "Look, you're going back into my head and we're going to solve this."

"How about no?"

She was taken aback by 'his' response. "Excuse me, what the fuck? You don't have a say in this at all."

"Actually, I do. Do you know what's it like to sit in your head, to deal with all the trauma, and nonsense throughout your crazy adventures? How many times did you ignore my pleas to run away? Too many to count. You don't even take a shower. Your emotional state doesn't even address the fact that you don't have to be this way if you talked with your father about those issues."

"What do you know about my emotional issues? You're just my subconscious that makes me think before I act. What the hell do you know what I feel?"

"I'm your goddamn brain - the center of your nerve control! I have to make note of everything you do whether you know it or not!"

The walls of computers alerted everyone in the room as Doctor Mobius swiftly floated towards the computer nearest to him. "This is new."

"What's wrong?"

"This alert… There's broadcast from Massachusets." He answered. "Why did they break operational silence after all of these years?"

A transmission was raised as a voice from the Think Tank echoed throughout the room. "Lobotomite, wherever you are Dr. Klein and the rest of our colleagues really need your help. Like, now! Seriously, we really don't know how to fight."

Another voice joined him. "Zero, stop the transmission and get your vivisectors!"

* * *

Troops flowed through the NCR border with the Mojave at their backs. This was a disheartening sight for Senator Richmond with his Vertiberd waiting for him. All of the political efforts of investing in the region was about to go to waste and he was hear to hold a conversation with General Oliver about is lack of a spine. He watched as the general directed the troops from the side of the road, trying to appear like he had any honor left as a soldier. Now that was going to go in tatters as many of the troopers standing or passing by had paused to note the senator approaching him. "General Oliver, just what the hell are you doing?"

The high-ranking commander turned around with surprise on his face. "Senator Richmond, I could be asking you the same question. I'm merely directing my boys out of the Mojave. The Legion has broken through the Colorado River."

"Then stand your ground and hold the line! There's a reason why you have the stars on your shoulders." The senator replied.

"You weren't there, the Legion broke through. It's only a matter of time before they come here and deal with us at this very checkpoint. I'm merely preparing our boys to dig in."

"Like how you dug in at the Hoover Dam?" His reply was venomous that many of the surrounding staff officers were taken aback by his words. "You had the same idea and it totally failed because you didn't think the enemy would cross the river with that large of a force. Are you truly a buffoon to consider that they wouldn't adapt to a battle they lost the last time we had a major battle with them?"

Oliver crushed the dirt beneath his shoes. "Careful Richmond, you may be a senator of the republic, but you are no soldier."

A fist was thrown as an angry man towered over the general. "I spent my years fighting the Enclave. Old as I may be, it's pitiful that our mighty military has been brought down so low because of you. Hell, those goddamn Russians have more balls than you do and they have no stake in this war of ours!" Then he looked at the soldiers around him. "Get me a radio, I got to call to make with the Senate."

* * *

Author's Note: I just wanted to break away from the usual stuff about Artyom and company. While it could have been better, I needed to cement something in for a later date.

* * *

 **Aren serathy** : Indeed.


	53. Chapter 53: Standing Together

The defenses were put in place, entire streets were blocked off by barricades of all sorts of things the locals could find - broken walls, destroyed cars, metal sheets, etc. Marksmen took up positions on rooftops of the once-abandoned buildings that were now turned into fortresses or death traps. Open areas were perfect fields of fire for heavy machine gun nests. The stage was set and all that mattered was that the soldiers, militias, and gunslingers reinforce those defenses. Despite the Omertas betrayal in the Strip, it wasn't enough to disrupt the efforts of those who were bringing everything to the line.

Artyom walked into the Old Mormon Fort to find the Followers and the medical professionals of the Metro gather their equipment. They were going to move to the more secure places of the city and the fort was going to become a strong point in case the Legion breached the first lines of defense. He was able to recognize the face of Arcade Gannon among the numerous white coats of doctors; however, he was not here for him. The factions of the Metro and the local leaders were meeting in this very place with Colonel Miller being the one to organize the defense.

When he arrived, he noticed everyone huddling around a single table - even Major Morozov and Tomilin was present in this meeting. "You're lucky that I didn't start earlier." Then he glanced at the others before placing his finger on a single map. "Hansa and the Nazis are going to protect Camp McCarren now that the NCR is no longer there. The Reds are going to take up positions on the eastern section of the city. Do any of you have a problem with that?"

The officers of the Metro shook their heads.

"Good. Independent soldiers are going to take up positions on the barricades or turn this place into a fortress. In case the enemy does breach the walls, you guys should start running back to the second line of defense." Then Miller stole a look from the locals. "You guys, are going to hold the second line of defense in case we fail to stop the Legion. This is the only passage into the Strip, so things will be a bit easier to hold out. Just watch out for the sewers."

A redheaded woman spoke out. "Do you really doubt our ability to deal with the Legion? We've held off the Khans from taking the city."

"You are?"

"People like to call me Red Lucy," She answered. "I'm known for my eccentricities at the Thorn."

"If you really want an explanation, the rails between the camp and the Strip are connected, but if Hansa gets overrun and the Legion gets any bright ideas you are the first to stop them before they fuck us in the ass."

Red Lucy raised her eyebrows. "That's not the language I'd expect from an officer."

"Pre-war officer," The colonel corrected her. "I'd seen enough shit in my lifetime that I've earned that right. Any questions?"

"I do." Another voiced his concern. "Since the people are going to be fighting alongside your soldier boys, what kind of equipment are we going to get. A rusty 9mm sub-machine gun might be useful against bandits or thugs, but it ain't going to do good with the Legion."

"You must be the King of the Elvis Presleys. If you need better equipment, I doubt the other factions are going to be willing to share and I also doubt you'd want something made out of fifteen different guns. Gather your men, they'll get their hands on the Order's stocks."

"That's mighty kind of you."

"You're welcome." He looked away from the King. "Is everyone else ready?"

Only silence responded. "Very good then, take to your positions and-"

Bells cried out throughout the city. The locals became confused with the unfamiliar sound, but Artyom knew it very well from his time in the Metro. The alarms had come and the battle was about to begin. "The Legion is attacking."

* * *

Legate Lanius walked forth to see the red uniforms and the armor of his troops as they marched towards the city limits. The defenders did everything they could to leave nothing before him. However, he'd expected the dissolute and the profligates to destroy anything worth of value to his forces. Despite the limiting view of his eye sockets of his mask, the commander could see the figures of the enemy troops on the signposts and the rooftops of the buildings. They were going to fight for every inch of ground. Perhaps the sons of Mars would find a hefty reward once they purge the city of its blights.

He looked to the left to see the small perimeter of Camp McCarren as the rail lines were connected into the city itself. "Send a force to seize that military position, it is vital that we cut off any chance of escape and break them there. By that time, the blood will flow and the day will be ours."

One of his officers voiced his concern. "Shall we initiate the battle?"

"Yes. Deploy the first wave and send in the prisoners. They will do our work for us."

"Understood. Primes, advance!"

A thunderous march kicked up the dirt as the infantry dispersed and spread themselves out against the enemy defenses. Lanius watched the enemy guns open fire as he watched his men eagerly return the same greeting or simply pressed forward. There were losses to be had as he watched soldiers succumb to the lethality of the bullets and lie underneath the sunlight. However, the volume of fire seemed to lessen when the recently acquired NCR troopers were shielding his men from the enemy. Their bodies would become the foundation of Caesar's dreams.

He was still surprised when there was still gunfire picking off his troops. Yet, the sounds were quite different than he expected. The air cracked every now and then, picking off the handlers before the imprisoned NCR troopers rushed towards the city gates. With this development in mind, his men were quick to gun them down, but it did not pan out as he'd expected.

Still, it led to an opportunity when he saw the gates slowly open for the prisoners with a small squad of troops coming out with shields - helping the prisoners get inside. If they were going so far as to rescue the prisoners when the opportunity presented itself, he had to increase pressure upon the city. "Send in the next wave of troops."

Several of the vexillarii stepped forward, leading their respective units into combat as the enemy's small sally forth had left an opening for his troops. Yet, he understood that he couldn't rely on the Russians being incompetent. Among the ranks of his troops, he saw several extendable ladders and various equipment being carried by the blacksmiths. They were going to get over those walls or breach the walls with explosives if they must.

* * *

Artyom and Pavel barged into a room to find two empty windows to be smashed opened. "Pavel, you take the right one!"

"Davai!" The communist officer answered. "Chyort, they're not even sending the entire force."

The young man looked closer to see ladders and wire cutters being brought up to the wall. "They have ladders." This immediately made him raised his semi-automatic rifle and pull the trigger; however, for every man who succumbed to his bullets someone else took his place.

"I got this, chuvak," Pavel replied as the young man turned to his right to see a strange three-barreled device get pulled out from its back. "The closest thing we'll get to a grenade launcher." With a pull of a trigger, Artyom watched as a makeshift grenade was flying in their general direction, only to explode one of many ladders in the process.

"You should have brought another." He replied before he continued to suppress the waves of infantry pushing towards the walls.

"This thing eats up grenades like a fat bitch!" The officer shouted as bullets peppered his window. "Just give me yours and we'll be fine." Another grenade was ejected out of its chamber before more Legionaries were cut down by the fragmentation. "Eat that one, bastards."

Artyom's ears heard a great thunderous roar in the distance. It wasn't from the Legion's side, but it definitely was not from the city itself. Just what was coming down upon the fighting?

He was answered when large piles of dirt, sand, and rubble exploded from the ground. His ears rang as the enemy was caught in this storm of destruction. While there were those explosions that didn't hit the enemy, the energy emanating from the explosion itself had taken fully-armored men apart.

Pavel's banter had returned. "What the hell is happening?!"

"Must be Christine's doing. She went to a group of people called the Boomers."

"Tell her to give me a kiss. I wonder what other magic surprises she can pull out of her ass," he replied jokingly. "We should count Lenin's lucky stars that it didn't-ah!"

The explosions shook the ground and the close proximity to the artillery fire had shaken the building's fire as the ground floor collapsed with the two men landing one floor below.

After the landing, Artyom could feel the pain in his back as he rolled off the ground to see his friend do the same. "I had to open my fucking mouth."

Thankfully, the door was not blocked off by the rubble when someone kicked it open. A soldier with a Red Line uniform was quick to come to their aid. "Major Morozov, are you alright?"

"What the hell hit us, soldier?"

"A stray shell had nearly hit you." He answered. "Get up, sir! The enemy is moving through the crack in the wall. They're storming the city."

The major stole a glance from the stalker as helped him onto his feet. "On your feet, stelok."

After they had recovered from the blast, Artyom followed the officer as he looked at the allied soldiers take up positions in small holes that broke through the walls and floors. When they finally reached the first floor, he brought out his makeshift automatic shotgun and took positions around a small hole large enough to see and fit a barrel through, but small enough not to reveal his body in the process.

Another soldier shouted through the walls. "They're breaching the door!"

Looking to his right, he could see Pavel jam a new magazine into his weapon. "Fix bayonets, comrades. Keep calm and hold your ground."

Silence fell over the soldiers throughout the various rooms of the apartment. Beyond the fierce fighting happening outside of the building, no one spoke a word. The young man looked through the sights of his shotgun and watched the hallway. He had fought the Legion before, but that was with the help of an army of robots. He didn't have the luxury in this case.

Artyom heard the door get smashed down as feet thundered throughout the hallways. On the other side of the hallway, the wall on the left had fired. Bursts of assault rifle fire turned this small place into a kill zone; however, it was not enough to deter the Legion from storming the positions of those men. The gunshots echoed throughout the building as men screamed for their life. Each room becoming louder the moment the enemy found out about their ambushers.

Around the right corner of the hallway, Artyom caught several Legionary troops ran into his view. The moment they recognized his barrel, the stalker pulled the trigger without hesitation. Shells flew out of his weapon before another took its place, buckshot riddled the enemy mercilessly and without warning, and dozens bleed out on the wooden floor. By the time he was finished firing his shotgun, the barrel was burning red out from the amount of gunfire he put downrange. Yet, it was not enough to stop additional troops using his moment of respite.

"Artyom, take this." Returning his head to the right, Pavel passed a large knife over to him. "Plug that in on the small bit near the barrel. The bayonet is really going to help." He explained before plugging his onto his weapon.

He followed his example and managed to adjust the small piece into place before looking past the major. "Let us in profligates, we'll save you the trouble!"

"Up yours, asswipe!"

The duo quickly reloaded their weapons as they prepared for the enemy on the other side. Then they heard a chainsaw on the other side before it pierced through the door and slowly broke down the door. The weapon was removed before a hand slipped in and reached out for the doorknob. However, Pavel left nothing to chance before he lunged forward and nailed the enemy's arm with his blade. The screaming intensified as Artyom noticed a knife slip in to try and reach for his comrade before he blasted away at the second assailant.

A cry from their left grabbed their attention. The murder hole where Artyom took his position at was now being assaulted as the wall was slowly being chipped away by a man grunting. A commanding voice shouted orders on the other side of the wall. "You there, grab a sledgehammer and get in there!"

Through the misshapen hole in the door, gunfire flickered in the hallway before a ladder slipped into their room. "Comrade major, climb up!"

Artyom felt a pat on his shoulder. "Keep an eye on that wall."

Listening to his request, the young man looked at the barrel's heat fading away as the Legion exposed themselves to him. One of them took the opportunity to pull a revolver out, but Artyom pulled a trigger as the blast tore the man's hand off. Meanwhile, Pavel pulled his weapon out of the door as he quickly grabbed the ladder.

"Chuvak, climb up!" As Pavel waited for the stalker to follow, the Legion broke through with their weapons in hand. He grabbed Artyom's arm and pulled him through the hole in the floor before the others slipped their barrels inside and unleashed their fury upon the attackers. Some returned fire, but they didn't have a chance to hit the defenders. "Damn, they're already in the city. We need to fall back to the second line of defense and stand our ground there."

Before Artyom could even say a word, he saw a pre-war frag grenade fly through the hole in the floor. "Get down!" One of the men cried out.

* * *

The Rose of Sharon Cassidy directed the packs of brahmin to where they were needed. Most of the inventory consisted of heavy machine guns to ammo of all sorts. Soldiers and various militia troops came to her supply, grabbing what they needed before heading off. It was the best thing she could do as Artyom had wanted her to stay away from the fighting. Although he cared a lot about her well-being, she wasn't going to let that stop her from helping those in need of military equipment.

The caravaneer placed her brahmin beside a building where the defenders were holding the barricade. She looked around the corner to see the Legion pouring through the city walls with weapons in hand. However, the charging infantry found themselves engulfed in machine gunfire as the buildings on both sides of the street had opened up on the exposed infantry in the open. Many died in droves, but it was not enough to stop them. In fact, it only slowed them down as they charged towards her.

Those among the barricade did not stand idle as the automatic gunfire filled the streets with bullets. The kill zones were ever-apparent as New Vegas citizens and Metro dwellers found themselves fighting alongside one another. However, she recognized Ranger Tomilin at the barricade, but he carried a small detonator in hand. "Fire in the hole!" As soon as Cass saw his thumb press down on the detonator, several explosions ripple through the ranks of the Legion.

Taking one more look at the street, the enemy was dealt a horrific blow in casualties. Those that somehow survived were immediately put down save for the wounded. For a moment, she was relieved to see that the defenses were holding despite the Legion gaining a foothold within New Vegas. Then she heard metal scratching below her as she noticed a manhole slide open with a Legionary climbing out.

Cass pulled out her four-barreled shotgun and unleashed a blast into his back. With the wound too much for him to deal with, he slipped back into the sewers and succumbed to his doom. "They're coming out of the sewers!"

Her alert had managed to earn the attention of Ranger Tomilin as he came to her aid. "Chyort, I need some grenades right now," He ordered. "Good call, we'll take it from here."

Several men brought his needs from the convoy of brahmin as they lit the fuses and dropped them into the manhole. A moment later, an explosion echoed from below before another grenade was dropped down below.

She walked up to the ranger, curious about the situation at hand. "Any news about the other parts of the city?"

Tomilin nodded his head. "Yes. The Old Mormon Fort is holding and is keeping the Legion back; however, we had to write off some neighborhoods because the Legion got too many troops there. We intend to retake them, but it will take some time until we retake them back."

"Do you have a map of these neighborhoods? I might have to mark them on my Pip-Boy and avoid getting ambushed with all of our ammo and supplies being used by the Legion."

He pulled out a small clipboard. "Here, take a look."

* * *

Ever since Raul had returned to his shack, he had been isolated from the world ever since. Then the attack on New Vegas had happened, this was the closest he'd had been to an actual war ever since the bombs fell. Looking through his binoculars, he could see the Legion storm the city defenses, but it appeared that the defenders still managed to keep them from raising a flag over the city. Much as he wanted to be a lonely ghoul mechanic, there was something within his old bones that wanted to help those people in some way.

The only reason he had not acted upon those feeling was the painful memories about the last time he wore his vacquero clothes. He somehow found the Legion's arrival to bring some degree of order in this chaotic land, but seeing the brutality made him question whether they were worth being seen as the forces of order.

Raul heard footsteps behind his back and as he turned around, a large shadow fell over him. "What are you looking at?" He blinked at what he'd saw and found a group of supermutants that somehow snuck behind him in such numbers. "Are you alright?" The supermutant with the goggles had asked.

The old man shook his head. "I'm talking to a pack of supermutants that appeared out of nowhere. Do you know how you even managed to pull that off?"

"We were very quiet."

"Bullshit, for someone of your size, I would have heard you before you snuck up behind me."

"Indeed, but we can talk about that another time. I do have a proposal to make?"

"What proposal would that be?" Raul wondered. "The last time I was in the presence of some supermutants, they trapped me in a room like an animal."

"I can guarantee that it won't happen to you. Are you familiar with a man named Artyom?"

It was at this moment that the ghoul found himself surprised that he would know this name. "Who's asking?"

"My name is Marcus, I was someone who his mother knew a long time ago. I came here looking for an old-time mechanic and his skills because he needs help as of right now."

"Sure thing, big guy. I'll gladly help him out. I owe the gringo my life after what he did at Black Mountain." He replied. "Where is he right now?"

The supermutant pointed his finger at the city of New Vegas.

He took a glance at the war zone and couldn't believe what he was doing. "Hijo de puta!"

* * *

Author's Note: I was honestly trying to get this chapter out earlier, but school got in the way had to postpone the update until a later date. Now that I am done with one of my classes, I got a bit of free time on my hands to get this out there.

* * *

 **x-x-TheBurnedMan-x-x** : This story isn't discontinued until I say it's discontinued. I'm glad that there are people who are stumbling upon this story. The rate of people finding this crossover is not great, but not terrible.

 **Paul Lenzen** : Thank you, I'd appreciate the reviews. It helps a lot when someone somehow manages to read about fifty chapters before saying something about it.


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